


Crime and Punishment

by InterNutter



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eating Disorders, Gen, Julia Burnsides Lives, Luume'irma, M/M, eventual taakitz, mentions of rape/non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-05 11:38:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 34
Words: 42,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15169928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InterNutter/pseuds/InterNutter
Summary: The Ravensroost Rebels have just ousted Kalen, and the shaky peace of the town is disrupted by a need for justice. The local militia have just captured a wanted criminal - Taako from T.V.They have to hold a fair trial. Which means gathering all the evidence. Which doesn't add up.And worse - Taako becomes a key figure in disrupting Kalen's plans to murder an entire town. Could it get worse or more complicated than that? Oh, yes it can!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The Adventure Zone in particular, the Balance Arc in general, and all the cannon characters therein belong to the marvelous McElroy brothers and their dad. The concept of Luume’irma belongs to @interstellarvagabond on Tumblr [give props, money, whatever, they deserve it]. Everything else comes straight out of my ass. Wash hands before, during, and after handling ;)

Magnus rushed in to Ravensroost’s town centre the instant he heard the bell ringing. There was only one thing the bell meant. Trouble.

Big trouble.

Maybe ten members of the Ravensroost militia were there. All of them were suspected to be Kalen’s creatures, but nothing could be proven. Yet. As it was, none of them were precisely welcome inside the city, so they spent most of their time allegedly patrolling the local roads.

Ravensroost's brand new town council were still figuring out what to do with them.

But right now? They had a prisoner. A crumpled figure in a cloak, a pointed hat, and a set of cruel stocks that had somehow survived last week's purge of the dreadful things.

Magnus didn't wait for other members of the council. “Those stocks are banned in these parts. Take them off. Now.”

Cocky though they may be, even Kalen's creatures knew better than to argue about the law here and now. One of them had a suspiciously convenient set of keys for the stocks, but didn't say a word when Magnus snapped one of the stocks’ bars.

The prisoner curled in on themself without a sound. The tall hat fell off, revealing a braid that the prisoner had obviously attempted to dye with oak galls and inkcaps. The attempt had failed, and most of their hair was a bizarre shade of aqua that owed more of its heritage to midnight blue, and included a generous dose of Cheap Ink Grey. The roots were already showing through, telling the world that this person’s hair was actually a rich gold.

And then he saw the thrust back ears, almost buried in the curling hair.

“An Elf? You arrested an Elf?”

“Better,” said one of the militia, grabbing a handful of hair and pulling the prisoner into a seated position. And there was a very familiar face. “We arrested the Ghoul of Glamour Springs. A mass murderer with forty deaths on his tally.”

_ “Taako?” _ Magnus blurted. He’d loved it the last time this Elf had come to Ravensroost.

“Yeah,” said the man holding him upright. “Went crazy and poisoned forty people in Glamour Springs. He’s wanted all over Faerun.”

Taako didn’t really act like a crazy poisoner. He looked like he’d given up on living. His rounded cheeks were sinking. His eyes were ringed with the darkness of sleeplessness. His clothing was starting to hang loose on his previously ample body. And the look in his mismatched eyes was one of deep regret.

“We need to have a trial,” Magnus insisted. “The council will decide his fate.”

“Why a trial?” said the militia man, throwing Taako down to the ground. Planking. “He’s guilty.”

“We need to hear evidence. Hear a confession. Judge him fairly.”

“He’s still dangerous,” said a different militia man. “You should put him in the hanging cells.”

Only twenty citizens had made it to the square, they had also read the news about Glamour Springs. So there was no choice. Taako had to go into a hanging cell until a council trial could be convened and a proper hearing could happen.

The hanging cells were a stroke of genius from Kalen. The cages all had bars wide enough apart for anyone to walk through, but they were lowered to become part of Ravensroost’s floor. Anyone seeking escape had a fifty foot drop to jagged rocks and cruel surf below. Many a guilty man had taken that last step to what passed for the gods’ mercy. The innocent suffered in the cold winds that blew in the cliffs underneath the mountainous fastness of Ravensroost. Their food delivered by a dumbwaiter on vertical rails that nobody could climb.

It was a cruel thing to do. Especially since Taako didn’t resist being dragged into the cage, and just sort of slumped into the middle of the cell. He made no attempt to escape, for all that the militia were eager to poke at him with their spears and swords.

Magnus made certain they didn’t drop the occupied cage by manning the winch himself. Glaring at the militia men until they realised their fun was over and they had to return to patrolling the roads. When the roof of the cell meshed with the wooden platforms of Ravensroost, he approached the citizens who had also come for the bell.

“Spread the word,” he said, “We need to have a trial as soon as possible. I’m…”  _ feeling responsible for that Elf in the cell… _ “I’m standing watch in case he needs something.”


	2. Chapter 2

Taako shivered in his huddle. Motivated only to gather his cloak around himself by the fact that he would probably freeze to death if he didn’t. And he had no great love of the cold to begin with, and dying a frozen death in a cell miles above the surface of the world, or falling down into a deadly undertow? Not his preferred way of a demise.

He couldn’t sleep because that was the way you died of the cold.

That, and he just couldn’t sleep anyway. He hadn’t been able to sleep since…

Glamour Springs.

He edged his way up to a bar, looking down. The very long way down. There was a boardwalk down there, but no piers. Just a path leading all around the stone pillars. They probably cast nets there, or fished up flotsam. Or sunk crab pots. Whatever.

He wouldn’t live long enough to find out what they did here.

Hanging or beheading. That’s what he was overdue for. And if he was really unlucky, they’d cut his ears, first. A murderer like him couldn’t expect much more than a quick death.

But these folks had sent down a blanket and a hot meal.

He hadn’t eaten since Glamour Springs either.

He got up enough to fetch the blanket, leaving the container. Stew, judging by the smell. His mouth watered, and his stomach rumbled, but he left the stew where it was.

He knew he didn’t deserve to eat.

Besides, they might have decided to poison a poisoner.

It was when he was wrapping himself up in the blanket that he spotted them. People on the boardwalk so very far below. Black cloaks, which stood out against the late night darkness like a dog’s balls.

Everyone thought that black blended with the shadows and the night. They couldn’t be more wrong. A lifetime of personal experience had taught him that drab greys and blah browns were the way to hide, darkness or no darkness. Hell, sometimes the people who’d been hunting him had almost trod on him during their searches.

And they were trying to act covert. Running between shadows and looking around. Like everyone and their kid’s dog couldn’t dot on to the fact that that they were up to no good.

“Hey, dipshits,” Taako called. “You new at this? A blind man could spot your stupid asses!”

One of them turned. Pointed.

Holy shit, those were the guards who’d caught him. And some other ugly fuck wearing too much velvet. Probably the darkest colours he owned, but vermillion and fantasy Paris green wouldn’t blend in with anything short of a circus tent.

And the ugly fuck was carrying some kind of device.

Taako’s withered heart sank. That was a fucking bomb. And they were all headed towards the pillars that held up all those houses. He could  _ not _ let any more deaths be on his conscience.

They’d taken his wand. He could still do cantrips, though. They always forgot about the cantrips.

Blanket and warmth forgotten, he swung outside of the bars and leaned out. “Sleep!” Rolled a one. “Sleep!” Ten.  _ “Sleep!” _ Nat twenty! All fall down.

His cage shook and he almost fell down with them. Fortunately, he was a flip wizard and managed to roll back inside just in time, as the big lug winched him back up. He sprawled, gasping, on the floor.

“What’s with all the ruckus?” said the lug.

Panting, Taako pulled himself into a sitting position. Gods, his arms were shaky. “There’s some dudes,” he gasped. “Down there,” he pointed in the direction he’d seen them. “They had a bomb. They were headed for the pillars under the houses. I dunno how long my cantrip’s gonna last. Drop me back, it’s them you need t’ get. I’m not goin’ fuckin’ anywhere.”

But the lug had abandoned his post to ring that fucking bell. Summon whoever it woke to deal with that noise. Fuck. It would be so easy for him to just… walk off. Escape in the confusion. So easy.

He huddled up in the blanket while the townsfolk rushed by. Waiting for an opportunity. The last of them hurried past and Taako moved to get up. Only to find his legs weak. Damnit. He could get out of here so easy.

Two attempts. Three. Five. He finally got to his feet on the sixth attempt. Feeling very light-headed and attempting to ignore the spots in his vision. Great. Now all he had to do was stroll on out of here.

He made it seven unsteady baby steps before he passed out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long-ass chapter, here, folks. Get yourself a cuppa and/or snackage for the long haul.

Julia was slower at responding to the bells. She knew she needed to be. People in a panicked rush forgot important things. Cloaks. Weapons. Lanterns. Pants. That sort of thing. So she calmly gathered a few spares from a few old revolutionary caches and strolled to the town square.

Where her silly goof of a husband had evidently forgotten about the prisoner. The cage was up, its floor level with Ravensroost’s elevated walkways, and the prisoner had fallen through the bars. Fainted? Probably. She recalled that he hadn’t looked that healthy when the militia men had him.

He was still breathing, judging by that emerging cloud of steam. But that cloud was thin and frightening for its paucity.

She put the things down near the cell and rolled Taako from T.V. over. He did not look that great, for an Elf. Deep shadows around his eyes. His attempted hair dye job was uneven and awful. His face had that flappy sunkenness that spoke of rapid and unhealthy weight loss. And she was certain that those black vein marks around his neck and jaw were not healthy, either.

In the process of loosening his collar, she noted the tightened wrap of fabric around his waist. She knew  _ that _ one way too well. She’d used it many, many times when Kalen’s harsh taxes meant that she couldn’t afford to eat. So had many villagers.

They called it the  _ Starving Belt. _ Tightening the clothing around the middle so that the wearer would notice less when they were hungry, feel full on less food, and otherwise cut themself in half, notch by slow notch. Bitter experience told her that this slightly portly Elf had been avoiding food for at least a fortnight.

Smart money said that he hadn’t eaten since the Glamour Springs Incident.

Not the actions of a deliberate poisoner.

She laid a couple of blankets over him, left a lantern, and raced off for the town Cleric. This Elf wasn’t going anywhere and, if she didn’t hurry, he would only be going to the hereafter.

Julia didn’t want that on her hands. On her conscience. On her soul.

Fortunately for her, Cleric Rose Eiola caught the urgency in her knock and scurried out in her nightdress and a blanket. Following Julia’s lead to where the fallen Elf still lay. Rose also saw the Starving Belt, and shared a telepathic look with Julia. Both were, silently, very glad that Magnus had declared a need for a trial. Something here was not adding up.

They rolled the Elf onto a blanket and prepared to drag him to the nearest warm corner. He needed care, not one of Kalen’s freezing, death trap prison cells.

“Julia,” called Magnus. He was carrying a black-clad body over each shoulder. Three of his allies were dragging Kalen by his heels, followed by two of the crueler members of the militia. Ones with ill repute amongst the Ravensroost maidens.

_ Three thousand stair risers between the boardwalk and the town… _ thought Julia. She would also bet that those thick heads had bumped every single one. Accidentally, of course. Or as accidentally as they could arrange.

Magnus rushed in, almost heedless of the weight on his shoulders. “What’s going on?”

“Taako collapsed,” said Julia. “He doesn’t look that great, so I’m helping Rose get him somewhere warmer.”

Magnus absently tossed the two militia men into the cell that Taako had just vacated. Not so carefully lowering them down. Other cells were coming up. One reserved especially for Kalen. Which would make hauling Taako all the way to the Dew Drop more than a little bit perilous.

“I’ve got ‘im,” said Magnus. Scooping him up casually like he had done it for a hundred years. Blanket and all. “You lead. I follow.”

They wove their way between hanging cells to the Dew Drop, and put out the folding camp bed that Master Cottswain kept for emergencies, right by the fireplace.

Julia wrapped a stone from the hearth in a blanket and placed it by the Elf’s back. Rose ducked into the kitchen for some supplies, and came out bare minutes later with a nursing cup that smelled of honey.

Magnus got Taako into a sitting position, taking the place of the hot rock as a warmer. “He’s so cold…”

“Working on that,” said Julia as she loosened the Starving Belt. The savage growl that emanated from Taako had nothing to do with his voice.

Rose carefully filled Taako’s mouth, barely spilling a drop. Massaged him into swallowing. One sip. Two. Three. His body took over and he began to drink for himself. Soon, the cup was empty.

“Don’t let him lie down,” instructed Rose. “He might sick it back up again.” The hot rock moved to a space between the Elf’s thighs. “I’m going to load the second dose with herbs to keep him under. He… he might have been starving himself on purpose.”

That thought almost failed to make it all the way through Julia’s mind. She’d  _ been _ hungry. She’d gone without while watching the Governor’s guards piss all over perfectly good leavings from the Governor’s mansion. She could not understand why anyone would volunteer to go hungry. And this guy was a world-renowned chef. It didn’t make sense. A whole lot of this didn’t make sense.

She had his hat, scooped up from the walkways of Ravensroost before the mountain winds could blow it into a place where it would never be found. A wizard without his hat may as well be naked. She knew that much. And this hat had definitely seen some love. And adventure. More adventure than love.

Judging by its crown, Taako had a habit of changing his decorations with his mood. Traces of once-fresh flowers stained the crown band. Holes from assorted pins scattered the fabric currently tied up in a big, floppy bow at the back. And on one side, an odd miniature bouquet.

On one side, a sprig of elderberries, charmed to remain as fresh as the day they were picked. On the other, a sprig of deadly nightshade, similarly enchanted. And between them, a branch of rosemary. All woven up in the band and pinned together with a common brass stay.

Certainly a very peculiar choice.

“I just realised,” said Magnus as Rose entered with the next cup of warm milk mix. “We’re going to need Taako’s witness for Kalen’s trial. And the militia men’s trials.”

Rose’s normal gentle mien grew stony and cold. “They can pickle in their own vinegar for a day or two. The council needs to decide on more than one thing, today.” She invested the same care as previously when feeding Taako this drink. “In the meantime, they have your witness. Everyone knows you as an honest man. We have reason enough for a little delay.”

Including finding anyone with neutral feelings towards Kalen so they could have a fair trial. An uphill battle if there ever was one. Even Magnus would agree that time in his own cells with nothing but gruel to eat was something Kalen sorely deserved. Nobody in Ravensroost would be inclined to send him down a bowl of stew.

She put down the hat and journeyed back out into the pre-dawn twilight. All the cells were down and their winches locked away. Those, like her, who were well awake for the day, were setting up for the new council meeting. Bringing out every spare chair and one of the surviving lecterns. Setting up the fantasy microphone and some finger foods that would keep. And fresh, clean water from the pumps in the Governor's Mansion.

No ale today. Small or otherwise. This situation demanded a clear head.

She joined the line of people drawing water from the mansion. The town artisans were still making all the pipes needed to bring that water to the whole town. Lots of work there, and little to pay for it besides the commissions from rich men in other towns.

The day came fast, with representatives of all the town's businesses filing in.  _ All _ of the town's businesses. Even the unsavoury ones that people would rather not publicly recognise as necessary.

The rest of the town gathered in the square. Everyone had heard that something was up, and now the interest was in where to place their own chair. Mrs DeForge was already in the front row with her knitting.

Magnus, as the recognised leader of the revolution, had a seat in the council as well. And the duty of imparting the news.

“Late last night,” he began, “Members of the Ravensroost militia captured a wanted criminal. Taako from T.V.”

The crowd murmured amongst themselves at this. They all knew  _ Sizzle it Up! _ and remembered the shows fondly.

Magnus cleared his throat. “Um. He's suspected of poisoning forty people in Glamour Springs.”

Gasps and muttering now. This news was more shocking to those who didn't or couldn't read the newspapers.

“During his initial incarceration, Taako called to notice the presence of ex-governor Kalen and some accomplices… attempting to rig a bomb under Craftsman's Corridor.”

Shouts of outrage. More than a few citizens were screaming for blood. Mrs DeForge repeated, “Hang him! Hang him,” as loud as she could.

Magnus failed to quiet the crowd with his gestures, and decorum was almost lost for good. Which was Julia’s cue. She stepped up into the council stage and blew an ear-splitting whistle.

“We’ll hang him after a fair trial,” insisted Magnus. “No more of Kalen's snap judgements. Testimonies and witnesses have to be heard. Including the witness of the wizard chef Taako. Who is currently… sick. I guess.”

“Sick? How's he sick?”

“He collapsed in his cell while everyone was rounding up the mess downstairs,” said Magnus. “Julia is witness to that.” He stepped aside and offered her the lectern.

Julia took centre stage and smiled for Magnus as he helped adjust the fantasy microphone stand.

“I found Taako’s cell in a raised position and the prisoner collapsed on the floor. From the way he had fallen, I can state in truth that Taako was still inside his cell when he collapsed. I found signs of injury that were some hours old, and resembled marks made by militia weapons. I found odd lines of contagion around his neck and jaw. And I found that he was wearing a Starving Belt.”

_ Murmur _ murmur murmur murmur…

“Taako from T.V. is currently in the custody and care of Cleric Rose Eiola in the Dew Drop inn.”

Nods all around. If Rose couldn't handle a prisoner, then Master Cottswain _ would. _ The man had arms like oak beams and a scientific knowledge of how to knock anyone out  _ fast. _

Magnus leaned in. “We’re here today to figure out the proper way to do this. By the law, and with fairness for all. Even those who don't really deserve it.”

Light laughter.

“We're here to see that justice is done. Not revenge.”

Young Millner stood up, last man in his family. Kalen had spared spared his mother and sisters, but only for the privilege of access to the women's bodies. “We need impartial judges,” he said. “Unbiased lawyers. And we need a new Governor to appoint them.”

Julia could only watch as the entire town unanimously chanted Magnus’ name. Never in history had any official been elected so quickly and so enthusiastically.


	4. Chapter 4

Magnus took the oaths of office with deadly seriousness. Felt the weight of them like the very mountain range that Ravensroost clung to. Felt like the spirit of the law was looking over his shoulder like a vulture after his flesh.

And instantly appointed his much smarter wife as advisor.

Thrust into greatness, he instantly walked on eggshells. No more rushing in from now on. He had to think about things.

Starting with the judge and lawyers. There couldn't be a jury. Not with public opinion the way it was. It had to be just a judge. What they called a closed trial. But not actually closed, because the whole town wanted to see this play out.

They retrofitted Kalen's theatre, in his mansion, and worked out a system where the witnesses of the day would have the box seats while they waited to be called. And ordering a Stone of Truth took time and a good hunk of gold from the town coffers.

It cost more to get the old one older stone verified by an expert, and the council decided on that one rather quickly. All of that took a week. News like Kalen and Taako got around quick. And by the end of that week, the town was bustling.

People wanted to see the Ghoul of Glamour Springs. People wanted to see Kalen hang. Some couldn’t believe that Taako from T.V. would poison  _ anyone _ and especially not with the one thing he was known to love beyond measure.

Not that he loved it now. Once his health restored to a point where Cleric Rose thought he should be able to eat and rest on his own - he refused to. They could send the best they had to offer down to his cell - he had to be in a cell - but it came back up untouched. After two days of this, Rose got him brought up daily and used a Word of Command to force him to eat one meal a day. And he spent the rest of his day in hysterical paroxysms with an odds-even chance of him throwing up anyway.

Magnus knew from personal experience that, when Taako slept, he always woke up with nightmares. And worse, he flat-out said that he couldn’t meditate. Elves didn’t need to sleep because they could meditate. If an Elf couldn’t do either…

His health was at risk.

Not a problem if the court found him guilty. They’d execute a person regardless of their health and mental welfare.

Big problem if Kalen’s trial dragged on, because his witness was the final nail in Kalen’s coffin. Attempted murder of an entire  _ town _ was definitely going to be the big one. And Taako was the only witness to the attempt.

So, in the middle of the night, he raised Taako’s cell just enough so they could talk. But not enough that he could escape.

“What’s going on with you?” Magnus asked.

His mismatched eyes glowed in odd colours in the dark. One amber. One green. Taako sat huddled in his cell in the middle of a bunch of quilting. Silent, and having nothing better to do than glare up at Magnus and steam gently in the chill of the night.

“You had enough in you to help save this town. Someone who did what you did… doesn’t seem like the kind of dude who’d poison a different town.”

His blinking was the only sign of life. Otherwise, Taako didn’t move.

Magnus sighed. “I wish Julia was here. She’s so brilliant. It’s like she knows everything and she’s…” he stopped. He didn’t need to wax lyrical about Julia. “Something about your whole mess doesn’t add up, Taako. I wish I could figure out what it is.”

Taako turned his glowing gaze away. “Eh. Life isn’t neat. Maybe I’m tired of death.”

“Yeah? So why are you starving yourself to death?”

Silence.

“Come on, Taako. You know we can make you eat if you don’t do it. Why go through all this aggravation?”

“Put me back down I wanna watch the Kalen show.”

Magnus sighed and turned the crank. If Julia was here, she’d know all the right questions to ask and know how to get answers. But Julia was saving her mental prowess for the day time. When she’d be the official questioner. All Magnus had to do was stay awake and take relevant notes. And find someone to watch over the cells, just in case.

Somewhere below the floors of Ravensroost, Kalen started kicking up a fuss about his accommodations. And Taako provided sarcastic commentary and critique. Which made Kalen even angrier.

It was good to laugh. Even in the darkest part of the night.

Magnus found himself dreading Taako’s guilty verdict. The Elf had saved the town, after all. And he was funny. And… Magnus kind’a liked him despite his prickliness. It wasn’t just his great food, though. There was just something about him. Something… weirdly familiar. Like he’d found something he hadn’t known was lost.

He didn’t want to lose that.

But…

He was the Governor now. He had to be… in charge. Responsible. Impartial.

Governor-ish. Without being like Kalen.

Gods. How the heck was he supposed to do that?

He knew on an instinctive level that it was more than just barging around and yelling at people to do stuff. He had to act in the best interests of everyone in Ravensroost. And he had to keep in mind the needs of justice for the survivors of Glamour Springs.

Which meant sticking to the truth, following the evidence, and obeying the law. Even when he didn't want to do all of that.

A figure in the night emerged from the still buildings. Cloaked and carrying a basket. He was on alert for a few moments, but then he recognised the walk. It was so quiet that he could whisper and she could still hear him. “Julia,” he whispered. “You’re supposed to be resting up for tomorrow -uh- today.”

She laughed as she scurried to him. Over the cells that contained Kalen’s creatures. Around the cell that contained Taako. A little detail that gnawed at his mind.

“I couldn’t sleep,” said Julia. “So… I cooked up an early breakfast. A… big… early breakfast.”

Magnus lifted the insulating cloth. “Smells delicious.” He offered the single Watch chair.

She had a camp stool. “You should know I always come prepared, goofy man.”

“Yeah, but I’m not going to let my gorgeous wife sit on an uncomfy old camp stool. The best I have to offer is an equally uncomfy watch seat… but it does come pre-warmed.”

She laughed, “So gallant.”

They sat and picnicked in the early-early morning light. Between the sinking moons and the stars, and the weakly threatening ur-dawn. Serenaded by Kalen’s increasingly feeble complaints, Taako’s acid critiques of the same, and the occasional ex-militia man yelling at either of them to shut up.

“Oooh, the blueberry muffins,” cooed Magnus, taking one out and splitting it open. Still steaming hot from Julia’s oven. Perfection. Redolent with spices and maple sugar.

Taako stopped critiquing Kalen. Like, mid-sentence. One of the other guards yelled, “What the hell is wrong with you now, Elf?”

And then Taako screamed, “DON’T EAT THAT! DON’T EAT IT! NO, NO, NO!”

Magnus, having already taken a bite, looked to Julia. 

She shrugged. “They’re fine. What’s the matter with you?”

Below the walkways of Ravensroost, the disgraced members of the militia began the ‘Shut up’ round robin, where all prisoners were yelling at other prisoners to shut up.

Taako paid them no heed, hammering on his ceiling and screaming things like, ‘please’ and, ‘it’s poison’ and ‘I can’t let anyone else die’. Along with his previous demand that they stop eating, he also implored them to spit it out, eat a fuck-ton of charcoal, and drink gallons of water.

“You crank him up, I’ll run for Rose,” said Magnus. Julia had learned blacksmithing at her father’s elbow. She was more than capable of cranking up an occupied cell.

“Right. And I can give him the old Quietus if he tries anything.”

Magnus saluted her before he ran away. He may have been the face of the revolution, the fist blow heard around their little slice of the world, but Julia was the real brains of the revolt. And, if a task required running, Magnus excelled at rushing in.

Rose was already awake, working on some tincture or something in anticipation of the seasonal sniffles. “It’s the Elf, isn’t it? Taako.”

“Yeah,” said Magnus. “He’s saying something about Julia’s muffins being poisoned?”

They ran back, Magnus doing the heavy lifting with Rose’s go bag.

Taako’s cell had been raised just enough so that he could communicate without escaping, and he had climbed the bars so he could reach desperately through in an attempt to grab Julia’s basket away. It was, of course, out of his reach, but he never stopped straining to reach it. Never stopped crying. Never stopped howling about the poison he was certain was in there.

At least not until Rose laid a gentle hand on his brow and cast Calm Emotion and Taako almost slumped into unconsciousness.

Julia raised the cell a little more, just in case the Elf fell through the bars to his death.

Taako recovered vertical stability, taking on the hazy agreeability that came with a lack of strong emotion. “It’s important,” he said. “That’s my recipe. Everything I touch turns to shit. You can’t trust it. Don’t eat it. Don’t eat. Don’t eat ‘s poison…”

“How did it get to be poison?” Julia said.

Taako reached up with one hand to his hat. To the odd bouquet he kept there. Elderberries, rosemary, and nightshade. “Elderberries. Nightshade,” he said. “Elderberries, nightshade. Can’t tell the difference. Nightshade elderberries.” A single sob escaped the obfuscation of Calm Emotion. “I killed them all with nightshade elderberries… didn’t want to. Don’t eat the poison. Don’t eat. Don’t eat it… don’t… eat… Don’t eat.”

He fell to a mumble, repeating, “Don’t eat,” over and over again. The fight went out of him, and he returned to the centre of his cell.

Julia lowered his cage again. “There is something horribly wrong with all of this,” she announced.

“Can you point it out, though?” Magnus asked. “Because I’ve been trying to figure it out and I’m just… lost.”

Julia was frowning as she stared into her memories. “It’s just… I  _ swear _ I saw somewhere that those forty people were killed with arsenic.”


	5. Chapter 5

Calls had been made. An expert from the case fast-travelled up to Ravensroost for the trials. Someone came out of nowhere to claim that he had worked on the travelling show, but a few questions from Julia outed the man as a fraud seeking fame.

But that was background noise.

Kalen’s trial was beginning today.

Magnus sat to the right of the judge. The Stone of Truth sat flat on a table, where everyone could see if someone had their hand on it or not. And two guards stood by it in case someone didn’t want to place their hands there.

The judge allowed the witnesses to testify in alphabetical order. Hearing only the facts and the truths as they knew it. Not conjecture. Not guesses. Things that they, personally, had seen and heard.

While it was not illegal to make taxation laws, nor was it illegal to tax lands to within an inch of anyone’s lives, it was illegal to then withhold the money from use of the public. Kalen’s use of Ravensroost funds was fraudulent. Claiming works were for the public and then restraining them to his private use.

His rapes were crimes, too. As were his mistreatments of anyone who objected. Uneven application of his own laws was a crime, too. Seeing a poor woman hang for the same crime that a rich man walked away from with a warning was more than enough evidence of that.

And the soiling of food that should have been redistributed to the poor was one of the last straws. There was no proof of his endorsement of it, and likewise, no proof of retribution for the actions of those men.

Next was the crime Taako witnessed. He leaned on the stone with both hands as if trying to press them through the stone and thus make his truth more truthful.

“It was roughly two in the morning, I remember hearing the bells. I decided to use the blanket that someone sent down for me. That’s when I saw  _ that _ pug-ugly motherfucker--”

The judge banged his gavel. “The witness will refrain from profanity and insults,” she instructed.

“My apologies to pugs,” said Taako. “I saw the -uh- accused and ten other folks in black scurrying from shadow to shadow, on that walkway thing under the city. I… critiqued their lack of stealth. And then I saw that this as-- accused… was carrying a bomb. That bomb.” One hand came up to point at the disarmed bomb in evidence. “He and his crew were -uh- were headed to the fourth column along from the left. Away from the cliffside.” One expressive hand sketched what he was trying to describe, and a small illusion popped unbidden from his hands. Blue lines showing the court the columns from an Elf’s eye view, and little figures on the walkway, and the target they were headed to.

“Oops,” said Taako, waving the illusion away. He put that hand firmly back down onto the stone. He was shaking, now. “Uh. So. I have the cantrip Sleep, and… I cast it on them. I figured a bomb couldn’t be good for whatever, and when I told your -uh- new governor, there, he sounded the alarm. I… wasn’t awake for much after that.”

A Ravensroost official testified that the column almost attacked, the column where Kalen and his crew were found, was the column directly under Craftsman’s Corridor. Where so many very talented people of Ravensroost resided. The very heart of the town.

_ If he had succeeded… _

That thought rippled through the audience. Order had to be restored as town guards took Taako away.

Kalen and his crew were doomed, now. They’d just heard evidence that their ex-governor had plotted to murder a good percentage of the town and effectively ruin the rest of it.

_ To think, _ thought Magnus.  _ If the militia hadn’t caught Taako, I’d be halfway to the fair by now with that chair on a cart and I’d be none the wiser… _

And Kalen would have murdered Ravensroost. Steven. Julia. Mrs DeForge. Rose. Even little Billy. Just… gone. Ended by a maniac who just wanted to destroy the happiness anyone else had.

Magnus wanted to be sick.

The judge didn’t need him or his opinion for this one. Kalen was clearly a homicidal maniac. He was found guilty. And his cohort guilty by association.

Kalen, as a noble, was due a beheading.

The rest of them would hang.

* * *

 

Taako was in chains to witness the effect of his words. Ten men lined up on a temporary platform. Ropes around their necks. One in a set of stocks very much like the ones they’d had him in in the beginning. The asshole Kalen was tied up in them. Chained to the block on which he would be beheaded.

Taako would be standing on that platform next. Hemp around his neck.

No stocks, though.

These folks were kind enough to spare him that much. But he was still in chains. And still guarded by a minimum of two city watchmen. Not that he had many plans to escape. He deserved what he had been dodging so far.

At least he could look these ones in the eye. Before the end of their lives.

More lives that he had ended.

Still, the guards helped stop him collapsing in the street. What with them holding firm to each bicep, even as he shivered all over from pure dread.

The lug, Magnus, stepped up onto the staging area. He had an axe.

“Elrestle Kalen. You have been found guilty of many crimes, most heinous of which is the attempted murder of multiple citizens of Ravensroost. You will therefore be executed for your crimes before all these witnesses and the men who assisted you.” Magnus looked grim. “Have you any last words?”

Kalen gave a fantastically long speech about how his treatment was unfair, that all the rebels deserved to die for their sedition. That the law he had been judged under was neither fair nor just. That there had to be true loyalists out there who knew that blue blood ruled best. That he deserved to live in wealth while the rest of the town wouldn’t know what to do with anything of real value. That everything that had lead to his current state was not his fault. That someone had to have pity on him. That if there were any loyalists, let them speak up…

Nobody spoke up.

They watched him speak until his tongue was dry.

Then Magnus nodded, and some guards shackled Kalen to the block, removing the stocks and breaking them afterwards.

One slice, and the despot’s head fell into the basket.

Magnus didn’t have any grand speeches. He was an honest and good man. That kind of man would kill, cleanly and quickly. No gloating. No speeches. No elaborate death traps. Just a quick and merciful death.

Taako had his hands at his throat.

Now Magnus read off ten names. Tailorson. Weaver. Middener. Clarkson. Cartwright. Fuller. Brewer. Cobson. Retter. Jameson. All had been found guilty of conspiracy to commit multiple murders under the orders of a deposed and exiled official. They were known to be guilty of numerous smaller cruelties, including the mishandling of the citizens they were avowed to protect.

They were to be hung by the neck until dead.

Again, they were asked if they had any last words.

Again, he waited for each of their turns. Looking them each in the eye.

One swore he had been bullied into doing it. That he didn’t want to. Please, please, they threatened him with telling his dark secrets.

Magnus put a gentle hand on his shoulder and said, “You still made a choice.”

And with the same axe, with Kalen’s blood still on it, he cut the rope that let the platform fall away.

Ten ropes tightened. Ten necks broke. Ten bodies twitched for a moment, and then were still.

They would all be buried in the potter’s field at sundown.

Magnus cleaned the axe, face grim. Only those with sharp, elven eyes could see that the human’s eyes were full of unshed tears.

_ Magnus Burnsides may be the only living creature to weep for my death, _ thought Taako.

The guards lead him back to his cell. As the chains came off and he was about to step back inside, Magnus put a hand on his shoulder.

“We have a saying around here. The feet judge. All the other cells… when they were down and full. People walked over the top of them. They’ve been skirting yours. We’re looking at the evidence. You… might not have done it.”

Taako shrugged him off and stepped inside the last room he would ever have. “You weren’t there. Everyone who saw that show died.”

He wouldn’t look at anyone as they lowered his cage back down to the underside. Wouldn’t look up from the floor so that he would be able to ignore that so… so very  _ many _ cages hanging from the underside were empty, now. So that he wouldn’t see the twenty legs dangling over the drop to the foaming ocean below.

So that he wouldn’t ponder taking one, small step for an Elf, and one giant leap into the undiscovered country.

Let someone else kill him. The whole fucking world had been trying to kill him since he was twelve. Letting a good, kind, and honest man do it was probably a mercy he didn’t deserve.

Now he had fifty-one souls on his conscience. Fifty-one who were not clear cut cases of self-defence. He’d been a thief, a stow-away, a liar, a whore, a gambler, a lion fiend, and a drunkard. It tracked that his one attempt at an honest career would end in ashes.

In hemp.

And a potter’s field.

Taako bundled himself up in the loaned quilt and tried not to think about anything. Lest his traitor brain get back on to his inevitable end.

_ Born cursed, end ill. _ That was what they said. Pity he was going to be living proof of that.

Oghma help him. He was doing it anyway.

The dumb-waiter came down, and Taako recognised the scent of one of his own recipes. Temptation pancakes. Rich with butter and honey… reeking of cinnamon, cardamom, nutmeg, and just a hint of ginger. They were trying to lure him into eating with his own damn favourites.

Taako broke, then. Tightening into a ball and sobbing like a child.


	6. Chapter 6

Despite their best efforts, Taako looked like shit when he came to his trial. Faded and pale, he trembled as he gripped the Stone of Truth with white knuckles. Julia didn't blame him. It had taken them three more days to get everything together.

Three more days of contemplating his fate. Staring at empty cells. One with the militia men’s dangling feet for alleged company.

It had to do something to the head.

“You have stated that you wish to confess,” said Julia.

“Yeah, I wanna get this fuckin’ over with,” two deep breaths stopped him from fainting. “No sense delaying the inevitable, right?”

Poor bastard. “State your full legal name for the record, please.”

“Taako. T-A-A-K-O. Just Taako. No family, so no family name. I was born in a little village called Tre Llew-Ddion. Everyone else from there died in the raids. The name… got corrupted over a while to T.V. ‘S all I got left, you know.”

“Thank you,” she said. That explained the discrepancies in the records she’d been able to find. “Now state the facts as you know them regarding the poisoning at Glamour Springs.”

His face was an open book with large print that said,  _ What the fuck is this shit? _

The stone compelled him to answer the question as asked, all the same. “I was cooking thirty clove garlic chicken. It’s a slow cook. Five hour recipe. So… I had to keep their attention that long. Hate it when they walk out before it’s ready. There was… so much magic. I used… so much magic that day. Prestidigitation’s a useful fuckin’ cantrip to wow an audience. Sparks flying out of my fingertips. I was riding high on it, you know. Useless. Gaudy magic. Taking the skin off the chicken and transmuting it back on. Turning salt into sugar even when I had sugar already. Showy. So reckless. There was… I transmuted  _ everything _ I touched. Even the garnish.” He was crying. Unstoppable tears of regret.

“Take your time,” Julia soothed. “It’s okay.”

“I’ve spent… every day. Thinking. Trying to figure out where it went wrong. Saze--” his voice cracked and stopped working. Forcing him to clear his throat. “Sazed was in and out of the Stage Coach with the mise en place. He was… he was getting better. He was trying. I love that man, but he has the stage presence of a barnacle. No idea that a paying audience doesn’t want to see his ass. Had.” Sob. “He left me.”

“Please stick to the incident, Taako. How did the poisoning happen?”

“I tried to nail it down. Did I sour up the oregano? Was it the tomatoes? I thought it through so many times.” One hand left the stone to touch the bouquet on his hat. “I… must have accidentally transmuted the elderberries into deadly nightshade. They look so alike. It’s the only thing I wouldn’t have noticed.”

“Did you sample your food, that day?”

“No. Sazed told me I need to watch my figure. Tasting the food’s always the biggest way a chef gets fat. A-a-and usually? When I’m -uh- dieting… I get him to come and sample it, but he. He was. He was hiding out in the supply cart. Sulking again. Not my fault he’s a brick on the stage. So I made a joke of it and started plating. I didn’t think about any of it until people started getting sick. And then I panicked. And I did what I always do when I panic. I ran.” More sobbing. “I fed forty people their deaths and I just…  _ ran. _ Like a coward. I could have helped. I had charcoal. I could have  _ done _ something. Run for the cleric. Got them charcoal and water. Stuck feathers down their throats… but I ran.”

“Thank you, Taako.” Julia gestured for his guards to peel him away from the Stone of Truth, and place him in the dock. Then she faced the judge and said, “Though this is true testimony, your honour, it does not mesh with the facts. Fifteen of the forty victims were found with the garnish in their hands or in their pockets. They had not eaten the elderberries. Furthermore, alchemical testing on the victims and on the remains of the food has since revealed that every victim was poisoned by arsenic.”

“Fucking  _ what?” _ Taako’s chains jingled. The guards were restraining him from jumping out of the dock. “How could- I can’t- I don’t- I only transmute  _ food. _ I don’t even know what arsenic tastes like. I can’t- I could never- fucking  _ how _ did gods-damned  _ arsenic _ get in my  _ food?” _

Thankfully, Rose was on hand to cast Calm Emotion until Taako was nearly in a torpor, and used the opportunity to get some rich, creamy soup into him with a command word.

It was supremely difficult to ignore that, but Julia did it anyway. “I have experts willing to give testimony, and one witness who was called away on a family emergency just before serving,” she announced, “They can all state the truth to what I have just said.”

Magnus was looking at her like he was seeing a rainbow for the first time. Or had just witnessed a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis. With a mere handful of words, she had lifted an enormous weight off his shoulders. Of course, he was still Governor, but that weight of having to kill this one accused criminal had been heavy on his mind.

“I will hear them,” said the judge.

There was the Cleric who had attempted to treat the last to die. There was the Undertaker and the Watchman together who noted that some amongst the dead never touched the berry garnish, and thus chose to investigate. There was the Alchemist who listed off the symptoms of both nightshade and arsenic poisoning, including some of the more obvious differences between the two. And finally, a barrel-maker who had come to learn a few things from the show.

“My wife was expecting, see,” he explained. “So I took over the cooking as handling raw anything made her egregiously sick. I ain’t bad, but I know that Elf fellow is the best, and I always want to give my love the best. So that’s why I went.”

“Did you see anything unusual happen during the show?” asked Julia.

“It was that other fellow. The driver and roadie. I saw a couple of shows before, see. He always set up beforehand, and if it was a tricky recipe, he’d be lurking in the wings to provide support. For this show, he set up and tried to warm up the audience. Can’t say I liked him. And after he introduced Taako, he stormed off to the little pantry cart thing. He was in there for most of the show. Long about halfway through, when Taako was showing the audience how to do fancy things with shallots, he comes out with this… attitude, I guess.”

“An attitude,” echoed Julia. “What kind of attitude?”

“That’s the peculiar thing about it,” said Mr Stavewright. “He was walking like a man with a score to settle. I’ve seen plenty a man about to set into someone with that walk, but this fellow just breezed onto the Stage, fussed around with the slow cooker, and breezed off again.”

Taako stood in the dock. “Sazed isn’t a big part of the thirty-clove garlic chicken show. I- I put it on on purpose so… he’d have some… alone time. He’d been out of sorts ever since…” One chained hand went to his mouth. “Since I told him he couldn’t be full partner.”

That was evidence enough and more so. The gavel came down. “We find the defendant innocent of his accused crimes. Let the record go out to that effect, and let a warrant be published for the arrest and trial of Sazed Baker, late of the  _ Sizzle it Up! _ show.”

Guards came and removed Taako’s shackles, but the Elf remained in the dock. Stunned.

He may have been found innocent, but he had a long road to travel before he found  _ himself _ innocent.

Julia looked to her husband, who knew what that Look meant and nodded. They would take him in. At a minimum for the winter. Try to help him heal. And when spring rolled around, they would work it out from there.


	7. Chapter 7

Taako would not eat a whole meal, set in front of him. He would not eat at the family table. But, since he insisted on hanging around the stove and the hearth and kibitzing, Julia came up with a way to cheat.

“Taako, can you taste this and tell me what it needs?” she would ask. Feigning innocence. It was a big spoon, of course. And she made sure to fill it and tip it all into Taako’s mouth.

And Taako would rattle off a list of ingredients. “A handful of garlic, three ground peppercorns, a stick of celery, two carrots, an extra potato, and a minimum of one head of cauliflower.”

Julia would conveniently forget all but the first, following Taako’s exacting instructions for that one thing. And get him to taste it again. In the process of perfecting her cooking, he would eat the better part of a serving, and the pickings he barely ate at meal time were enough to round out the meal.

If he ever knew she was doing that to him, he never let on.

But he also never peeled, sliced, or otherwise prepared a single ingredient. He would wash up so he could be useful, but he never went near any kind of preparation process. Not even stirring the pot.

And one day, in the middle of the worst howling storm in living memory, he had what Julia thought was a breakthrough. She woke up to delicious smells and found that Taako had cooked the entire pantry’s worth of food. Pies. Casseroles. Ornate dishes that she couldn’t believe came from Ravensroost’s common fare. Roasts, glistening under protective covers. Everything that could be stuffed had been.

Taako was in the middle of it all, looking slightly feverish. Slightly frantic. He sniffed the air and made a noise more appropriate for a cat, but all the weirder for coming out of an Elf. It was, “Mrrrp?”

“You cooked,” Julia cheered. “Congratulations. It smells  _ wonderful. _ This might be your best wor--”

He was right up in her space. Sniffing deeply. He smelled… nice. Very nice. A pervading odour that made her want to tuck herself back in with Magnus for some marital bliss. Taako snorted and turned away. “No. Wrong. All wrong.”

“What’s wrong, Taako?”

“Want. Need. Want.” Sniff sniff snuffle snort. “All wrong. Not here.” The next noise out of his throat was more of a yowl. Desperate for something. His breaths shortened, and small noises of anguish and frustration began to escape him.

“What’s not here?”

_ “Want mate!” _ Taako complained, and vented a louder call that was too much like a cat in heat to be denied. His ears flicked around as he stood there, panting. Increasingly disappointed by the lack of response. “Wrong. Wrong.”

“What’s all the ruck-- oh shit,” said Magnus as he came downstairs.

Taako was on him in seconds. Sniffing.

“Do you know what this is?”

“I know it’s called luume’irma. And I know it’s an Elf thing. I  _ think _ there’s something you can do to tone it down? But… I can’t remember what it is. Basically… Taako’s looking for fun times. Well. Not  _ exactly _ Taako. He’s not at home right now.”

The cat-heat call was so loud it hurt her ears.

He needed to be sedated. Julia went for the medicine shelf and poured a generous spoon of poppy syrup. “Taako? Tell me if this is okay?”

She’d trained him well. He took the spoonful like a good Elf. Magnus caught him before he could fall. Wrapped him up in the quilts and tied them shut.

Dad came down, next. He’d taken the time to insulate himself from winter’s chill. “What is all that racket?”

“It’s something called luume’irma. Dad? Keep an eye on him, will you? Magnus, go get Cleric Rose. I’m going to see if any of the Roundheels want a two-silver job in this weather.”

“What?” said Dad.

“The Elf is in heat,” said Magnus. “More or less. If Rose can’t do anything for him, one of the working girls definitely can.” And with that, Magnus rushed out. In just his undies.

Julia sighed. She loved that man, but… As she got dressed, she laid out his winter gear, too. Magnus rushed back in, blue in the extremities. “Forgot a few things didn’t I?”

“Yes. And I put hot rocks in your boots. Goofy man.”

“Best wife ever.”

She rushed in to her clothes, all the same. “How did you remember this time?”

“Slipped on a patch of ice and hurt my butt.”

She laughed, and delivered a chaste kiss before heading out. Downstairs, Dad was staring at all the food and the bundled up Taako. “What the hell do I do with all this?” he asked.

“Keep an eye on Taako. Sit on him if you have to. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Same for Magnus. One way or another, we’ll fix this.”

It took longer than she liked to negotiate a deal with the Roundheel House’s girls. They knew enough about luume’irma to want overtime for dealing with it. Julia eventually promised the girl three silver and all the Taako’s cooking she could eat.

And then it was a treacherous walk back to the Hammer and Tongs. Where the door was open, and her father was flat out on the floor.

Steven Waxmen was a large man. Still muscular despite his advanced years. He came around quickly, though. He’d just been stunned.

“He just threw me aside like I was his poppet,” Dad said. “And then he was out the door and howling.”

Jenny Flatback stared stunned at the entire scene, and summarised the situation in one word. “Fuck…”

* * *

 

Angus McDonald was just past six years old and he knew that he was in big trouble. The storm had come out of nowhere. Well. Technically it came out of someone with this weird grass belt who never wanted to go to jail again. The wind had tossed him around and he’d been lucky to land in something soft.

He’d spent quite some time getting up to the surface, again. The wind tossed around sleet and all he could remember about surviving this far from civilisation was a direction to take. Downhill and downstream.

Moving helped, but not much. Angus could feel the cold biting at his fingers and toes. He was not made for icy weather. But he did find steam.

Steam meant heat.

Heat meant warmth.

He was definitely not going to be picky about what was warm and why. At this stage in the game, he would climb into an ogre’s cooking pot just so he could thaw. So when it turned out to be a midden, he was extremely grateful.

The maggot mass he found was slimy and stinky, but it was  _ warm. _ And the only real drawback was the live bear who was doing a little late-season scavenging before retreating into hibernation.

The bear took Angus’ presence as a threat.

Angus wondered if he had time to play dead. Or if playing dead was even a good thing.

Someone, somewhere out of Angus’ line of sight said, “Baby. Who’d throw away a baby?”

The bear roared. 

There was a streak of gold and dusky brown.

And blood.

So.

Much.

Blood.

All Angus could do was scream and scream and scream and  _ scream. _

And then there was a warm fur all around him and a demented-looking Elf wearing most of a bear carcass -still steaming- over his regular clothes. And surprisingly gentle arms plucking him from the midden and wrapping him up.

And-- oh gods.

The skin he was wrapped up in had been  _ the bear’s _ just a few minutes ago.

Angus fainted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Department of Don't Try This At Home: A maggot mass can reach 22 degrees Celsius or 71.6 Fahrenheit. Which _can_ plausibly help you ward off frostbite if you happen to be that desperate. Don't do what Angus did if you have injuries or blackening in the effected area because the maggots will view you as food and then everything will get worse because gangrene. Plus it's super gross.
> 
> I'm a writer. I research this stuff for fun.


	8. Chapter 8

They had to wait for the storm to die down. Which it eventually did in the late afternoon. Cleric Rose had a tracker spell that, using a section of Taako’s shed golden hairs, could work like a floating compass to track the Elf down.

Or more likely, given the storm’s severity, his remains.

Magnus didn’t want to think about that as he trudged over snow drifts. He prayed to any god that would listen about how he just wanted to find Taako, safe, alive, and well. And preferably over luume’irma so they didn’t have to fork out three silver to Jenny Flatback.

He found the steaming city midden before he found the blood trail under a layer of snow. Colouring parts of it pink.

One big, gaudy splash over a wide area, and then a definite trail, leading away from the city midden. Towards a hole where Magnus knew solitary bears liked to hibernate. Where a steaming fur now lay, lightly dusted with snow.

Magnus unhooked his axe from its sling, readying a blow. If a bear was fattening up on Taako…

But there was something odd about the steam. There was something odd about the smell. True, it was overpowered by the stench of the midden, but... He could smell bear, but he could smell… dead bear? Cooking bear?

The people following him had caught his trepidation. They didn’t know what to make of this scene, either. And then a bear skull, cracked open, flew out from the lump of bear fur.

It looked and smelled like it had been cooked, but there was no scent of fire or boiling water. There was a smell of heated fat, but the smell was something Magnus was not used to.

And floating up from one side of the bear fur was the distinctive blue sparkles of Taako’s magic.

“Taako?” Magnus risked. “Is everything… okay?”

Silence there, and nothing more.

He crept closer. Straining his senses for any sign of what the fuck was going on.

A small, young voice. “No. No, sir. I can eat it myself. Thank you though.”

Taako’s voice. “Good good food. Good baby.”

And worse… he sounded just like he had when he was dippy under the influence of luume’irma. Which meant that any kind of shenanigans could still be happening.

Gingerly, axe still at the ready, Magnus pulled at the bear fur.

Taako snarled at him for less than a second, and then abruptly switched gears. “Friend?”

“That’s right,” cooed Magnus, not daring to make any sudden moves, because Taako was clearly munching happily on half a bear brain. “I’m a friend. I wanna help.”

Taako was curled up inside most of a bear carcass. The intestines had been rejected somewhere along the blood trail. Likely scavenged by a mountain wolf or blown into the midden by the winds. The Elf was almost entirely covered in blood, and apparently happy about that. And now he uncurled a little to reveal another face in the hollow. “Found a  _ baby…” _ he cooed, looking so proud of himself. Almost as proud as if he had conceived and birthed the kid himself. Or spun them out of whole cloth.

It was either a small six-year-old or a large four-year old. He had once been wearing fancy clothes, but they had been torn up by something. This kid was relatively spotless, considering. He nervously held the other half of the bear brain.

“Please get me out of here, sir. I appreciate the save, I do, but I don’t really wanna eat this no matter how surprisingly delicious it is…”

“Skinny baby. Winter. Eat,” said Taako. He took a bite of his brain and chewed it. Leaning towards the kid as if to deliver a kiss.

The kid took a vigorous bite. “No. I’m eating! Don’t do that again. Please.”

Oh fuck. Was Taako trying to pre-chew food for this kid? “That’s gross, Taako,” he chided.

“Good good food. Need fat. Winter,” Taako protested.

Magnus put his axe down and shrugged off his pack. He had some of Taako’s food in special preservation bags. They should still be as warm as they were this morning. “I’ve got better food…” And he opened the bag. Letting the smell of roast crackling pork waft out.

Taako snatched it out of Magnus’ hands and tore off a chunk. “Baby eat?”

“Oh thank the gods, yes,” sighed the kid.

By now, the rescue sled had come up, and Magnus could help in ousting the hot rocks from inside, arranging them in a path to the little den where Taako and this young stranger lay.

“We have a better place to be, Taako,” Magnus said. “Better food. Safer place. Cleaner, too.”

Taako blinked at him. “Good den?”

“Yes! Good den. You and the baby can hop on up in the sled, and we’ll take you there. Lots of good food. No bad stuff.”

Taako scooped up the kid, who was now wrapped up in Taako’s cloak like a moth in its silk, and rose out of the hollow like some kind of ancient godling.

And leaped between stones before landing neatly in the sled like a weird, bloodstained acrobat.

Magnus gathered up the remains of the bear inside its skin. Nobody back home was going to believe it otherwise.

And it served to help insulate his rescuees on the trip back.

It took two baths each, a feast before, during, and after, a change of clothes, and a lot of hot chocolate to calm the kid and get Taako to settle down. The kid -Angus McDonald- had been in dire straits before Taako dropped in out of nowhere and rescued him from certain death by bear or hypothermia or both.

He wasn’t certain how he felt about the rescuer, since Taako insisted that Angus was  _ his _ baby now.

In fact, the only way to get Taako to settle at all was to allow him to wrap himself around the kid, and then bundle them both inside quilts, blankets, and comforters. And then keep up a steady stream of hot food and hot chocolate. Most of which, Taako wanted to feed to the kid.

When Angus hit on the idea of trying to feed Taako, the Elf in question was so god-damn proud it almost seemed like he would burst.

_ “Good _ baby,” Taako insisted. “My good baby.” And then he would partake. And he began to purr.

Which was something Elves didn’t do in mixed-species’ company.

Angus was six years old, apparently, and gave a clear and concise testimony that judges may have wept with joy to hear. Which was a good thing, because Taako wasn’t one for conversation, right now.

The bear had been foraging in the midden as Angus had been using a maggot ball to save himself from hypothermia. Desperate times and all. And the bear had already learned that humans were dangerous, and wasn’t about to take any chances with a small one.

And it was  _ then _ that Taako leaped in and killed the creature with his bare hands. Removing the skin with his fingers and wrapping Angus up in the fur.

“And when I woke up, he was using Prestidigitation to cook the tongue. He tried to feed it to me, but when I refused, he chewed some up and tried to spit it into my mouth, sir. It was so gross, I figured it’d be better just to eat whatever he gave me, but that was kind’a gross, too, sir.”

“...skinny baby…” Taako mumbled. He was drowsing, now, but maintained a seated position and a firm grip on Angus. His purring remained steady and soft. And definitely soothing.

Rose, who had made certain no-one was hurt during the ordeal, surfaced from the book she had been reading.  _ Elven Habits and Lore, _ according to the spine. “Well. This isn’t… very good.” She sighed. “According to this book, a child adopted in the throes of luume’irma might as well be legally adopted. Taako’s not going to give up your welfare at all easily, kiddo. Even when he’s sober, he’s still going to think of you as his kid. Likely for the rest of your life.”

Angus looked very alarmed and the half-conscious Taako trilled a calming, sympathetic note with his purr.

“He won’t be like  _ that _ the whole time,” said Rose. “I think.”

Julia sighed and patted Angus’ head. “It’s going to be okay, sweetie. We’ll figure something out. No matter what.”


	9. Chapter 9

Warm. Safe. Full. These were the things that mattered most to Taako as he drifted back into complete consciousness from the lull of luume’irma. He drifted in a pleasant haze. Wherever he washed up was comfortable, and a fire was keeping them warm. And the baby was safe and sleeping soundly.

Wait, what?

Taako’s eyes snapped open to behold a fine crop of dark, curly hair. Cute little human ears that were also a dark hue.

The first conscious thought in his head was,  _ Oh fuck, I stole someone’s baby. _ Followed closely by a triumphantly instinctual,  _ My baby now. _

He wracked his re-assembling brains for any hint that this kid might have once belonged to someone else… but all he could come up with was garbage and a bear and the bloodthirsty drive to protect this baby.

His baby now.

Not exactly a baby. This kid was four if he was a day. Or an underfed six. It was supremely hard to tell with humans.

Taako extracted himself and wrapped a rock from the hearth to slide into the covers. Skinny kid like that needed help to stay warm in weather like this.

There were still collections of food scattered around the place. All dinner stuff. And most of a bear carcass in the cold box.

Fuck. Now that was going overboard.

Taako had to make it up to this kid, since he vaguely remembered being told that he was fucking scary during Luume. And little warmed a young boys heart better than a good breakfast. There was still flour. And eggs. And bacon. And milk.

He stopped in the middle of reaching for the ingredients. What if the kid was lactose intolerant? What if he had celiac syndrome? What if he was vegetarian? What if he couldn't have sugar? Did he have a special diet?

What if Taako made something that made his baby sick?

_ Visions of Glamour Springs danced through his head, and every single one of the victims was suddenly this child. Every single falling body was this small and skinny boy. _

He almost jumped out of his skin when the kid gently brushed his arm and murmured, “Are you okay, sir?”

Alive. His baby was alive and healthy and definitely not poisoned at all. Taako knelt to embrace him. “It's okay,” he said, “it's okay, now. It's going to be okay.”

“Sir?”

It was a fight to regain some semblance of normalcy. “Thought I'd make you a decent breakfast. Make up for scaring you and all that. And then I kinda… froze?” It was a fight to let the kid go. “Is there anything special I need to avoid when I make you anything, pumpkin? Stuff that makes you sick if you eat it?”

“Not that I’ve ever found, sir. But when I'm at home, Nanny Werthers makes me have oatmeal, sir. Two cups of oats cooked in half a cup of water. That's the way it's good for a little boy.”

Taako felt greatly offended by the suggestion. “Sweetheart, that's a recipe for oat concrete,” he said, almost ignoring the fact that this boy had a nanny. Whoever this grandmother was, she deserved a thorough tongue-lashing for serving  _ his _ baby fucking concrete. “Tell you what. I’ll make you some Taako brand oatmeal and if you still prefer it your Nanny's way, I’ll suck it up and make you the concrete. No extra charge.”

“Sounds like a good deal to me, sir.”

Of course Taako tested everything on every step of the way. The oats, the dried fruit, the spices, the honey, the cream… all of it. Nothing that could be any harm. He knew this. And yet, when he served the steaming bowl, he felt compelled to add, “Now if you feel the slightest bit bad from this, you let me know, okay?”

The kid boggled at him, but said, “Sure thing, sir.” And took his breakfast to the Burnsides family table.

It was a fight to not fuss over this kid. A fight that Taako lost. “That chair comfy enough, sweetie? Need a pillow? A blanket?”

“I’m fine, thank-you, sir.”

Taako pulled up a chair and tried to massage some sense into his noggin. “I know I must’a made a bad impression, kid. Can I- can we- I mean- is it- Can I start again? Hi. I’m Taako. From T.V.” he offered his hand.

“Angus McDonald, sir. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” He shook, squeezing Taako’s hand like an adult might. He was four. Maybe five. And he’d learned to shake hands like a grown person.

_ And the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon… _ Taako won the battle to stop tearing up. “Okay. So. All of my instincts are screaming at me to look after you. And… I know that I am probably going to suck at this. I don’t want to donk this up, Ango. I’ve donked up so much in my life and… this…” he indicated some link between the two of them with one waving hand. “This is more important than anything else. So… you let me know when I’m being weird. Okay? And then I- I- I can try to work something out with you.”

During this whole speech, Taako noticed that Angus wasn’t eating. He was just sitting politely and waiting. “That sounds fine to me, sir.”

“You… aren’t even gonna try that?”

“I’m waiting, sir,” said Angus.

“For…?” prompted Taako.

“I’m waiting for you to sit with your breakfast. A polite little boy waits for all people to be seated with their meal before he begins. That’s what Nanny Werthers always says, sir.”

Shit. Well. Okay. Taako served himself a smaller portion and sat again. “Fine. Let’s eat together.” And hope this kid didn’t notice that Taako had a smaller spoon and ate more slowly than any other hungry being.

Impeccable manners on his boy. He ate like a member of the elite. Elbows tucked in and supping without a sound. Taako was impressed.

“I can only hope your grandmother approves of an Elf in the house,” he sighed. “Guess I could sign on as kitchen staff or something. Maybe.”

“Beg your pardon, sir, but I don’t have a grandmother.”

It was too early in the morning to work this crap out. “So who’s Nanny Werthers, then? A guardian? Foster parent?”

“She was hired by my parents to look after me. A professional Nanny.”

Oh. Right. “Fancy lad, huh? Okay. Soon as the passes clear, we can let your family know you’re okay and you got… an Elf in your entourage, now.”

“But I don’t have a family any more, sir. My parents died just last year. All I have is the manor staff on retainer.”

Well. That tore it. Angus was most definitely Taako’s boy now. “Okay. Then… we can let them know that they still have a job, I guess.” The creeping worry begged to be asked about. “Is it…  _ normal… _ for fancy little lads to be wandering around the wilderness these days?”

“No. Not really. I’m the only one. My parents wouldn’t let me go out very far on my investigations,”  _ Thank the gods for that, _ thought Taako, “but when they, too, fell victim to a killer, why I had to solve it. And since then, the Rockport militia have helped out whenever they could.”

This whole sitch was starting to smell incredibly fishy. Taako could almost believe that the servants on retainer were trying to bump off the family to get the fortune. And the last thing in their way was this tiny, adorable little boy.

_ Not any more, _ vowed Taako.  _ Nobody hurts my baby. _


	10. Chapter 10

Rockport was a long, long way away from Ravensroost. Three months’ travel, and most of that down intricate mountain roads that had spelled the doom of too many people in a hurry to get wherever.

Magnus provided Taako with a traveller’s caravan that he’d made himself. Enough room to sleep in for two people. A little reading nook for Angus. And just enough space for just enough cooking equipment to satisfy Taako’s basic needs.

_ Sizzle it Up! _ had had more gear, for sure, but that big Stage Wagon could barely make it along Ravensroost’s roads in the midsummer. This was the damp, squishy, muddy, melty spring.

“This is the best road to take you down to the main stretch,” Magnus said, pointing out the way on the map. “I’ve marked out all the places where land and mudslides are likely to happen in red, and the safest places to camp of a night are in green. The mule’s one of a pack-train, so you probably don’t even have to steer too much.”

“Got it,” said Taako. “Camp on the red parts, avoid the green ones.” He hadn’t regained his weight over winter. In fact, he was looking even thinner, now that spring had arrived. At least it was no longer looking so dangerous as it had when he had been captured, and the black, vein-like markings of Blight were no longer present. Cleric Rose had confirmed it. Taako was healthy of body. Not all the way healed of mind, though.

Which made Magnus worry. “No. Red is bad,” he began, and then caught on. “Stop goofing, Taako. This is serious.”

“I have travelled in dodgy areas before. I’m a hundred and fifty and everything. Trust ch’boy. I got this.”

Angus, sitting anxiously on the driving bench, watched it all play out. Taako had rather insisted on a cushion under him, the now-cured bear hide between that and his be-cloaked and be-blanketed self. As well as gloves, a jumper, a scarf, and a warm hat. There was also a charmed thermos of hot chocolate for him, and another of coffee for Taako. And inside the caravan was a healthy supply of travel provisions that could see them well into the flatlands without any trouble. There was, for instance, an entire drawer just filled with Taako’s version of lembas. All wrapped in wax paper and proof against anything unwelcome eating it.

“I should escort you as far as the Gerblin Pass,” said Magnus.

“Guard your own damn nest, Governor Burnsides,” said Taako. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a  _ wizard. _ Taako can handle a few gerblins. It’s cool. I’ll write. Or you’ll hear about me in the papers. Whatever.” He climbed up and set the caravan into motion. Heading away from the safety and shelter of Ravensroost without a backward glance.

Angus got the feeling that Taako wasn’t one for looking back, ever. No matter the circumstances. In fact, there was a stony set to the beautiful Elf’s face that Angus sensed concealed a deep hurt. There had been something wonderful about wintering with the Burnsides and Mr Waxmen. And now, through duty and obligation, they had to leave it behind.

Because the McDonald Estates and Trust could foreclose on Angus’ inheritance if he didn’t come back inside of a year. Because Angus had ties to Rockport. Because certain things had to be done.

All the same, it took Angus an hour into the ride to say, “I’m sorry, sir.”

Taako stopped entirely watching the road. “How’s that, sugarplum?”

“That’s a nice place and you were happy there,” he said. “And now because of me, you have to leave your friends behind. And because of me, you may never see them again.”

“Aw, pumpkin… don’t think of it like that,” Taako wrapped an arm around him. Hugging him. Taako was very free with hugs for Angus. “I nearly died there. Three times over. Those two love birds are better off without Taako being a fly in their lu-- ointment.” He cleared his throat. “You watch. They won’t even miss me. Nobody does.”

Angus knew that he was a little on the isolated side, socially speaking, but even he could recognise how horrible a thing that was to say. “Sir! The whole world loves you, sir.”

“You’re a sweet kid, Ango.” His hug tightened a little. “But it’s a harsh truth. In all of Faerun, and in all the places I’ve been… I’ve never once come across anyone who’s ever been glad to see me twice.”

“Not even your cooking show?” It seemed impossible. Everyone loved  _ Sizzle it Up!” _

“That’s not  _ me,” _ said Taako. “Not really. Not the real me. That’s a performance. An act. A trick. Nobody’s ever hung around the real Taako for long. Nobody stays and nothing lasts. And that’s the downside of being a Wandering Star, kiddo.”

Angus couldn’t wrap his head around it. “But… it  _ was _ you. You were in the Stage. You were cooking. It was your food. Your recipes. How can it not be you?”

Taako took down a dangling gem from his wizarding hat. Put it into Angus’ palm. “Take a look at this gem. It’s pretty, isn’t it? Catches the light.”

It did. Not just the facets, but some glittering inclusions inside it. “Is it magical, sir?”

“How much would you pay for something like that? A gold? Two? Five?”

Angus held it up to the light. There wasn’t a single part of it that didn’t sparkle. “I have no idea, sir. Maybe twenty?”

“What if I told you that I know a place where you can get a pound of gems like that for a copper?”

Angus felt his eyes go wide. “Are we talking  _ illegal _ stuff, sir?”

Laughter. “Oh, no, pumpkin. Nothing of the sort. That there? That’s  _ glass. _ Glass and little bits of metal inside it. When they grind any bit of metal, you get these little tiny balls of metal from the grinder. Sweep them up and stamp them flat, and you have glitter. Stir them into coloured glass and pour it into moulds…” he put the gem back into his hat. “Priceless sparkling gems from the furthest reaches of Horseshittia. A copper a pound. They even come pre-pierced.”

“It’s still pretty,” Angus protested. “And the things you can make from them can be prettier, I bet.”

“Pretty cheap. Pretty useless. There to be seen, but never useful.” Taako shrugged. “That’s all a stage show is, Ango. Glitter. Display. What you display isn’t who you are. And sometimes, what you display is… actually trash.”

Angus found his eyes drawn to Taako’s braid. The dye had faded and seemingly drained off of his golden hair during the winter. There was no black, any more. Even the aqua tone had faded to a copperish shade of green. His hair really was naturally gold, and Angus had to wonder why he’d dyed it in the first place. “I don't think you're trash,” he murmured. “Apart from the whole bear thing, you have been pretty good actually.”

Taako steered the caravan around a tight corner. “Yeah, the bear thing was a statistical outlier, little man.” And then he pulled the brake. “Ssh. Not a sound,” he whispered.

Angus looked. There were two large trees across the road, but the way they were arranged said  _ road block _ more than it said  _ landslide. _ He knew he was unarmed, so he made to hide in the caravan.

Taako laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Uh-uh. Archers.” He stood and flipped out his cloak and brandished his wand. Coming over all imperious and super confident. “Who dares impede the progress of Taako Bearslayer?” And to add to his display, he set the trees on fire.

Angus expected a hail of arrows, but none of the archers on the high ground moved. The three gerblins on the road block ran for their lives. They were actually the only living things in this pass.

One of the archers fell off its perch, revealing itself to be a stump with a bow. A broken, shitty bow. And the quiver was full of sticks.

“None of them drew when I stood up.” Taako wove another spell that moved the burning trees out of their way. “The best battle is one you don't have to fight.”

Which made sense for a wizard who only did showy things. But that fireball had also proved that Taako knew a few things that would get him out of a pickle. If he was competent enough to survive to his hundred-and-fifties, why did he have such a terrible opinion of himself?


	11. Chapter 11

It was the first library they came across in a town named Crossroads. Settled on the nexus where assorted trade caravan trains literally crossed paths, it was a bustling hub of trade and industry. And it also boasted one of the largest libraries in Faerun. Unlike most places that also served as a temple to Oghma, this one had a chapel as an annex. So while Taako caught up with his deity, Angus caught up on Taako.

The fantasy newspapers’ entertainment section had never been one to fascinate Angus before. Reading about it now opened up an entire new world.

He started as a footnote in one of the back pages, and it only took him four towns to get portraits and advertising in there. From there, it was a question of article size and picture dimensions. Why, he’d even become a rival to the most popular traveling show in Faerun, the WWE.

And then came the event at Glamour Springs. Forty deaths by poison. And a few months after that, the trial that revealed that Taako’s magic wasn’t to blame. Just plain old ordinary arsenic and a jealous manager/assistant named Sazed. Who was still at large.

And worse, the papers were still speculating about Taako’s reliability as a chef, as an entertainer, and a person. Found guilty by his association with his manager. This, in spite of clear and present evidence that Taako had no idea what Sazed had been up to at the time.

There was even a full transcript of the Ravensroost trial. With notes on how some of the dead hadn’t eaten the elderberry garnish.

Some people just wanted to judge people by the company they had kept.

The Taako that Angus knew from this winter past was kind. Sure, some of the fussing Taako did over Angus was instinctive, but there was genuine concern, there. Taako hated the cold, and was constantly checking that Angus was warm enough.

Taako was paranoid about poison - understandably, given recent history - and checked all of Angus’ food by testing it on himself.

_ He didn’t eat otherwise, so Angus purposefully avoided complaining. _

Taako, by all inferred evidence, had had to cope with nothing and nobody. And so drilled Angus almost relentlessly in all kinds of survival information. Including which tree barks were edible. He insisted that they were for desperate times, since they all tasted like ass. Which spoke of his being that desperate on multiple occasions.

Angus finished taking notes, trying to figure out how to solve the Taako Case. In this instance, how to redeem the Elf’s public reputation. Certainly, he could give interviews. The court record could be publicly accessed. But gossip was one matter that the truth could not easily defeat.

_ Perhaps what I need is a greater fiction, _ he thought.

So he bought a letter kit from the front desk, and sat down with ink and quill to write. It was a calculated pretense, because the author of Caleb Cleveland would not believe a six-year-old fan writing to  _ them. _ They would, however, believe a fan writing to Caleb, care of the publisher.

_ Dear Mr Cleveland, _ he wrote,  _ My name is Angus McDonald, and I am six years old. Your journals have inspired me to become a detective. However, that fact is less important than the great injustice I have recently discovered… _

He wrote on, detailing the disaster, the evidence, and the travesty of justice unfolding in the newspapers, and how he, Angus McDonald, could use the Kid Cop’s help in bringing true justice to a good and kind Elf.

Who was reading over Angus’ shoulder.

“That’s adorable,” he said. “Pumpkin… you know Caleb Cleveland’s a fictional character, right? He’s no more real than the Pirates of Penzance.” The look on his face said it all. He was all wound up and prepared to comfort Angus, should there be a protestation of reality or a general emotional upset. Angus could almost see the  _ It’s okay, _ waiting on Taako’s shapely lips.

“Oh, I know that, sir,” Angus said, revelling slightly in the sight of Taako almost fainting with relief. “People expect a certain behaviour from someone my age, so I’m playing to that assumption.”

Now he looked delighted. “Oh, you’re running a  _ con,” _ he said. “That’s even more adorable. You think a portrait of the two of us together might skew their opinion? I know I’ve… lost some weight between then and now…”

_ You’ve lost enough weight to make two of me, sir, _ thought Angus. “I thought maybe you could give an exclusive interview to one of the more widely circulated newspapers, sir. They’re bound to do your portrait. And you can talk frankly and openly about your new fear of eating.”

Taako made a disgusted noise. His ears flicked back and his hair curled.

Angus risked comforting him with his hand. “It’s going to be okay, sir. If people can read about the impact of this disaster on you, you might become a more sympathetic character in this particular drama. Of course, you’ll have to stress that your initial flight from the scene was an inground instinct from your rough childhood.”

That startled him. “How did you--”

“You know what all of those barks taste like, sir. And the details of making them non-toxic. If you had a stable upbringing, sir, you wouldn’t know that for sure. And you certainly wouldn’t teach it as thoroughly as you’ve been doing.”

“Life’s uncertain,” Taako dismissed. “Gotta make sure you’re set up to make it if I beef it out there. That’s… that’s what a responsible person  _ does. _ Right?”

“Nanny Werthers says that there’s more useful life skills. Like a command of High Elvish, and good manners in any situation.”

“Don’t. Tell me any more about her. I already want to punch her in the face.”

“Sir?”

“The more I hear about your Nanny, the more I’m inclined to believe that your journey to adulthood is… not exactly… her highest priority. I mean, she never told you what to do if you were caught in a snowstorm, sweetie. That’s something everyone should know.”

Angus could feel the same tickle of doubt. Nanny Werthers knew that Angus was out and about in all kinds of scenery, in all kinds of situations. And yet, she insisted in Angus knowing the things a highborn lad of good education should know. Things that would see him into a high-quality boarding house, and then into a quality establishment of employ. She never seemed to mind that a six-year-old had a voluntary job, nor that that job was dangerous. She never fussed over Angus like Taako did.

She tucked him in, because that was expected. She read a boring story in a perfunctory manner, because it was what got Angus to sleep.

Taako tucked him in with optional cuddles and definite purring. There was a nightly hot chocolate that Taako tested for temperature and integrity. A reading from Caleb Cleveland with the best Taako could muster for character voices. And finally, a soothing monologue that guided Angus into something approaching meditation, and the most restful sleep he had had in his life.

There would always be a hot and tasty breakfast waiting for him when he woke.

Taako  _ cared _ about Angus. Not all of it was instincts.

Nanny Werthers merely looked after him.

And it was that distinction that had Angus leading Taako to the offices of the Faerun Herald. Taako deserved to have his say, and Angus carefully coached him to always mention the dead with regret. This wasn’t about rebuilding his brand. It was about showing sympathy for the families of those who had died.

“Just imagine how you’d have felt if I’d been in the audience, sir,” explained Angus.

Spontaneous tears. “I don’t want to.”

“It’s going to be okay, sir. You know these people have families. You know they have to be upset. All you have to do is think about what you might say to comfort those people still alive, sir.”

“There’s nothing I could say to them,” he said. “I ran like a coward. I had charcoal. If I’d stayed and fed it to them…”

“Why  _ did _ you run, sir?”

“Abject terror. Seeing people die… and I knew it was my food… I- There was no rational thought. I just… I went with the first thought. The one that’s kept me alive for… Shit. A hundred and fifty-two years. Running away got me to live this long. And I survived a lot of shit, little man. Stuff that’d make your hair turn white.”

“That’s exactly what you need to tell the papers, sir.”

Taako sighed. He allowed Angus to mail his letter first, but couldn’t procrastinate further than that. “You’re going to have to help me out, here, pumpkin. I wanna run. I want it so hard.”

Angus held his hand all the way. And sometimes guided his answers away from Taako’s usual morbidly bleak and self-deprecating humour.

It took the rest of the day, and Taako got the wagon rolling in the night. Away from civilisation.

Well. That pocket of it, anyway. Angus still had to get to Rockport as soon as possible so that he would not find himself presumed dead and have to fight for his inheritance. A fact that he told Taako about whilst they travelled the roads of Faerun.

“Yeesh,” Taako said when he absorbed it all. “The more I hear about your sitch, baby, the less I like it.”


	12. Chapter 12

Rockport. City on the grow.

Bustling centrepiece of burgeoning industry and invention, there were few places in the city that weren’t manufactories of one form or another. All the best of modern convenience could be found here. The places that weren’t factories were shops. Filled to the brim with glistening new things.

“Yikes. When did Stones of Farspeech get so small? Or expensive?” wondered Taako.

“It’s the latest from silicon valley, sir. Miniaturisation is all the rage. Why, they predict that soon, you’ll have a stone that can fit in your pocket.”

“They cost twice as much as this caravan did,” objected Taako. “It’s cheaper to write a letter.” And then he got diverted. “Oooh. Fantasy food processors…”

“Eyes on the road, please, sir,” Angus said, but he was grinning. The mule drawing their caravan wasn’t exactly the fastest beast, but Rockport traffic was way faster. “There’s all kinds of unexpected things happening here.”

Taako fought to do so. There was so much that could distract his attention. Including all the shiny, sparkly things on display. He was an Elf of certain tastes, and those tastes ran directly to anything that could dazzle the eye or augment the kitchen.

Because they were so slow, they had to take a circuitous path to McDonald Manor. And they almost made it halfway there before the Rockport City Watch made their presence known.

Taako pulled up as soon as he heard the siren, took his hat off and got out his papers. After placing them on his lap, he put up his hands.

“I can’t have possibly done anything wrong, I only just got here,” he intoned.

The officer with the booklet had half a grin and was one of the many Tom Bodettes in the city. “Good evening, sir,” he intoned, going through his script. “Welcome to Rockport, I understand that many of our modern conveniences are surprising to your kind. Are you aware that you are holding up traffic, today, sir?”

Taako had grown a rictus. “Oh I get it. Just because I’m an Elf, I’m behind the times. Eff why big fat eye, I used to sell some of this stuff on the road. You might have heard of  _ Sizzle it Up! With Taako?” _ He posed. “I know. I’ve lost a lot of weight. Things broke bad, and now I’m trying to get this darling little humanman back to the place he calls home.”

Angus emerged from the layers of warming cloth around him to wave. “Hello, Officer Bodette. Our mule’s a little on the slow side, can you help us get to McDonald Manor, please?”

The Bodette’s attitude changed in instants from condescending officer helping a hick to eager lickspittle willing to do anything to get that gold star sticker on his report card. “Oh. Master  _ McDonald. _ Is this a case, sir?”

“It’s an ongoing complication. Mr Taako found me during a bad storm… and he was experiencing luume’irma at the time.”

Taako sighed. “Yeah. Basically, this kid’s mine, now. I’d rather chop off a limb than abandon him, you know? All good intent, here. All good intent.”

But Officer Bodette was glad to help them along, and got together an escort for the sweet little boy of the hour. All the way to McDonald Manor.

Nanny Werthers was there to greet him, and looked over Taako like he was an unexpected pet that had followed Angus home.

“There you are,” she snapped, as if he were merely late for dinner. “I trust your latest misadventure is over and done with?”

“One of them got away,” said Angus, as if this were an everyday thing. “Though he did have a powerful magical artifact to assist him. This is Taako.”

“Oh yes. The travelling Elf chef that poisoned an entire village. How lovely.” Venom practically dripped from her mouth. And then she said in High Elven,  _ “Honoured superior wished the knowing of your lessons. You neglecting them are, natural?” _

Taako snorted.  _ “Your grammar is atrocious and your accent sucks, little girl. How about you leave the education to someone who actually speaks the language?” _

Nanny Werthers went vermillion. Obviously, she never expected an entertainer to speak a more cultured tongue.

“There’s rather a lot of evidence that points to Taako’s assistant as the poisoner,” said Angus. “The papers leave out a lot of vital information. Like how many of the vict--”

“Yes, yes, yes. I’m sure you have many anomalies to cover. In lieu of your mathematics.” Another icy glare at Taako. “Your… little friend… can refresh himself in one of the guest suites.”

Taako casually gathered up the bear fur and draped it around himself. “Oh, I’m staying with my boy,” he said.   
“What. Is  _ that?” _

“This old thing? Just a bear skin. I killed it because it was threatening my baby,” Taako patted Angus on the shoulder as he delivered the world’s most angelic smile to Nanny Werthers. “You know how luume’irma goes. And  _ I’m _ one of those sorry unfortunates who have an irregular cycle. The next episode could happen at  _ any time.” _ And without any other warning, he abruptly changed topics. “Lead me onwards, pumpkin. I’d love to learn me some math. Maybe if I get taught at your level, it’ll finally sink in.”

Angus wasn’t entirely certain how Taako had threatened Nanny Werthers, but she was rolling skill checks to prevent having a potty accident then and there.

Angus did as he was told, leading Taako to the tutoring room. A bare and bleak place with a wooden writing desk and a blackboard.

Taako made a small noise of disgust. “Reminds me of Saint Vingo’s,” he said. “You  _ sure _ this is okay, sweetheart?”

“I don’t mind learning, sir. It’s fun to find out new things.”

Taako was inspecting the hard, wooden chair. “In this much discomfort? In these drafts?”

“Nanny Werthers says that learning is the most efficient when there’s the fewest distractions.”

“I bet she does,” Taako grumbled. And he draped the bear fur around Angus. “I don’t want you catching a chill in here.”

“Sir, it’s almost summer. It’s not really that cold any more.”

_ “I’m _ feeling a chill,” muttered Taako. “This entire room is a living nightmare.”

Nanny Werthers, appearing seemingly out of nowhere, said, “You are more than welcome to leave if you so wish.”

Taako shrieked and instinctively moved to protect Angus. “Like fuck am I leaving my baby alone with  _ you.” _

The war had begun.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long one because otherwise it would be a short one and a day's wait for the next bit. Not really fair that way.

Taako spent every single lesson time with Angus. Seated cross-legged on the bear fur, slate and pencil in hand and apparently eager to learn. He’d insist that this was the fine, Elven tradition of learning.

And then he’d become a disruptive force.

He would correct Nanny Werthers’ Elven, of course. Had a thing or two to say about recent history, and some choice facts about some of the authors or figures she held in high degree. But it was mathematics that had Taako driving Nanny Werthers up the wall.

“Wait. How is this supposed to work?”

She had an interesting vein that stood out on her head when she was furious, and it was throbbing now. “You. Were. In.  _ Business,” _ she raged. “How could you survive without knowing basic mathematics?”

“I was the talent. The showy bit up the front. My manager took care of everything else.”

Angus, already Taako’s enabler, innocently suggested, “Maybe if you start from the very beginning, Nanny Werthers.” Only he could detect Taako’s smirk at that.

She’d have to take an extended break to calm down, and Taako would take Angus down to the kitchens, where a different war had been fought and won.

Taako’s first day in there had been one of abject horror, followed by a world-class chew-out and a threat of reporting Worley to the Food Safety Administration for his deadly storage system. Now the entire place had been rearranged. Once a sterile steel operations facility, the only thing that remained were the Miller Labs kitchen gadgets. The countertops were glittering quartz. The floors a bright mozaic advertising  _ Sizzle it Up! With Taako and Angus. _ The cupboards were a warmly burnished wood with laquer so thick that any mouse would dent its teeth trying to gnaw through. The larder was completely re-organised, with all the hazardous items exiled to an out-of-the-way and awkward to access cupboard in a distant corner from all the food preparation surfaces.

And every single foodstuff prepared in this kitchen, regardless of the presence of Worley, was handled by Taako in one way or another. Couched as lessons either to Angus or to Worley himself. The way Taako shuffled things around made the preparation into a shell game, and everyone knew that Taako only taste-tested Angus’ dish, which he then delivered directly to the boy.

And then came the matter of unpacking. Angus’ satchel arrived by mail from a farmer somewhere near Phandalin. The accompanying letter indicated that it had fallen on the farm during the storm that caused Angus and Taako to meet, and that they hadn’t found it until spring. This caused the farmer to be very worried about its owner.

Angus was quick with the thank-you letter, and a summary of his adventures. He also enclosed a reward before sending the missive off. But the parcel remained wrapped and in Angus’ bedroom for days thereafter.

“Don’t you want to check they didn’t help themselves to something?” Taako asked.

“I can’t unwrap it, sir.”

“Aw. You have trouble with the knots? Let Taako help. It’s real easy.”

“NO!” Angus managed to startle himself. “Please. Don’t? I don’t unpack until I have another case. It cuts down on the exotic incursions.”

“The what now?”

Ever since he was four, and following a few mysteries here and there, he had… trouble… whenever he unpacked. Of course, his parents were alive back then and didn’t let him go nearly as far afield or unsupervised as he does these days. But whenever he unpacked his bags like a good boy, that night, something wild and dangerous would be in his bag, or would have crawled on his bed. And it’s only escalated since his parents were murdered by a serial killer with the nickname Cheerful Charlie.

“Unpack anyway, Angel,” Taako prompted. “I’ll keep you company tonight and keep the little creepers at bay.” Not that he didn’t interrupt his attempts at meditation or sleep to go check on the kid during the wee small hours. Angus had been woken several times by a stealthy presence with mismatched, glowing eyes in the dark.

Fabricating a story about how he couldn’t really rest without knowing Angus was safe was not going to be at all difficult.

* * *

 

Taako slept so lightly that he might as well sleep like a dust mote. Meditation had him vulnerable and unaware of the outside world, but sleep? Sleep was easily interrupted. More so because it was technically unnatural for Elves. He couldn’t remember how or why he’d got the habit, but it had saved his ass more times than he cared to count.

And now it was saving his boy. Taako startled into awareness at the door to Ango’s suite opening, and cast minor illusion so that his eye shine wouldn’t give him away.

Pincost, the butler, had a small bag in one hand and a dark lantern in the other, shedding just enough light to give shape to the darkness. If one were as blind as a humanman.

Taako slid out from under the bear fur and ghosted closer to Pincost. Easing across the floor in stocking feet. Something in that bag was wriggling, and Taako would win the bet that it wasn’t a nice pet.

Pincost opened the bag with every caution.

He wasn’t expecting Taako to snatch it from his fingers and tip the contents down the back of Pincost’s neck.

_ Then _ Taako dropped the illusion. Opening the dark lantern so that more light flooded out of it. “Now… I’m as much of a fan of goofs as any other creature,” he said. “But I much prefer the ones that people can laugh at. But if I don’t miss my guess, whatever’s crawling around in your undershirt is gonna need some anti-venom for ya if it gets tetchy in there.”

Pincost was trying very hard not to move too much. Or at all. Shallow breathing. His face a desperate rictus.

Angus, woken by Taako’s normal speaking voice, cast Light on his bedframe. He put on his glasses. “Sir? What’s going on? Pincost? What are you doing here?”

“Apparently, he was playing a goof on you, sweetie,” said Taako, waving the bag. “All those little nasties you discovered were his imports. I just chucked his latest specimens down the back of his shirt.”

And his darling little boy was… alarmed. “Oh no! Some of those were really dangerous, sir. Please cast Sleep on whatever it is in there?”

“...elthuscan… millipede…” said Pincost with a whimper. One of the more horrific poisoners. Those who suffered the bites died slowly and painfully. Rotting whilst they were still alive.

“I might think about it,” allowed Taako. “So long as our friend Pincost, here, tells the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth about what’s going on in this house of horrors.”

Angus, always prepared, got out a fresh notebook and a small brace of pencils. Taako didn’t know what was scarier. The fact that he was this prepared or the fact that such a small child had taught himself phonetic shorthand.

“...can’t talk… with it… loose…” whispered Pincost.

Taako tutted and carefully extracted the insect with Mage Hand. And kept a firm grip on Pincost’s shoulders with his real ones. “If my baby detects a single lie… it’s back down there and I fucking push you.”

Angus made himself comfortable with a bed table and his notebook. Sitting up as if he were attending a lecture. All the while, Pincost got to watch an angry, venomous millipede squirm in the air in front of his nose, and feel Taako’s nails gripping the collar of his shirt. He also got a good, clear view of the bear fur that  _ everyone _ in McDonald Manor knew about by now.

Casually tucked around a tiny little boy so that he could stay warm if there was any kind of chill breeze.

Angus liked to have part of the pelt near his free hand so he could stroke the fur.

“From the beginning, if you please, Pincost.”

Pincost began from the moment Angus was born, and the McDonald Manor staff were muscled out of an inheritance that was due before the new heir made his arrival. Unfortunately for the staff, the McDonalds were very smart and intensely aware of the potential for motive. They foxed a lot of attempts before young Angus learned to read properly at three and a half.

Fortescue had been quietly embezzling for years before this event, but the fact that it happened only made the peculation more likely to be discovered.

The precocious little boy soon read everything he could get his hands on. He worked his way through the big dictionary in the library, then the encyclopaedia. And then he discovered Caleb Cleveland and fell in love. After he made his way through the extant books, he started in on the newspapers and actual crime stories in the police blotters.

He solved his first crime shortly after his fourth birthday, and his parents were glowingly proud of him.

Which gave Fortescue an idea.

Young Angus shared everything with his Nanny Werthers, as well as his parents. Murder most foul became typical table talk at the McDonald dinner table. And owing to the McDonald Family Plate Shuffle, with staff sharing the table and the meals, Worley’s plot to just poison them was preemptively ruined.

Nanny Werthers, meanwhile, worked her hardest on making young Angus’ life a misery, attempting to poison his every joy in life.

What they needed was a villain that Angus’ prodigious perception rolls could not identify and capture in less than forty-eight hours. And then came Cheerful Charlie, a serial murderer who slit his victims’ faces before posing the murdered bodies in a venue of entertainment.

It was billed as Charlie’s first Double Crime. The bodies of Mr and Mrs McDonald posed with their hands intertwined in a merry-go-round’s carriage seat.

Angus had solved the identity of Cheerful Charlie just before he turned five.

But he’d never noticed that some essential details were absent from his parents’ case.

Charlie went to the gallows, all the same.

With the parents out of the way, and Angus the darling of Rockport’s City Watch, it became easier to arrange circumstances in which a small boy might accidentally come to harm, thereby leaving the staff with plausible deniability.

Just like the horrible arrangement of the Manor kitchen’s pantry. It was  _ made _ to create an ‘accidental’ poisoning. And all Worley was doing was attempting to find a dose that would harm a child but not the adults Angus insisted on shuffling plates with.

Taako didn’t notice he was growling until Angus stopped him with, “Sir. Please. I need an unbiased testimony for the City Watch.”

“All four of them,” snarled Taako. “Trying to kill an innocent little baby boy. For  _ money.” _

“Deep breaths, please, sir. Distance yourself from the emotions. It’s just another puzzle.” He finished the notes he was making, apparently undisturbed that he was taking notes on his own, multiple, attempted murders. “And the toxic creepy-crawlies, Pincost?”

They were more plausible deniability. If something dangerous just happened to bite Angus, then none of the staff were to blame. Clearly, the boy travelled to strange and dangerous lands. It’s none of their faults if his baggage happened to pick up a hitchhiker or two.

“Mm-hm,” said Angus. He finished his notes for good, snapping the notebook shut. He left his bed and walked to his writing bureau. “Please let Pincost go, sir. There’s nothing more he can do tonight.”

Reluctantly, Taako did so. “Come near my boy again,” he warned. “It won’t be pretty.” And snorted as the man fled.

Angus was busy writing without a care, under a mirrored lamp. Writing on pink paper.

Taako journeyed to peer over his shoulder.

_ Notice of Employment Termination, _ the neat writing said.  _ It is with sincere regret that I must notify you of your termination from the employ of the McDonald Estate, without pay or recommendation, owing to conduct unbecoming. _ And then his signature.

“Conduct unbecoming? Angel. They’ve been trying to kill you. And they killed your parents and framed someone else.”

“After I’ve written these, sir, we’ll take my notebook down to the city watch. They’ll be arrested for what they’ve done.”

“Except that Pincost has got a head start to warn all the rest,” said Taako.

Angus nodded as he wrote the next one. “That would be a reason for concern, sir, except that the city watch know my staff and will immediately catch on if they try to flee in the middle of the night. Our biggest concern is an attempt on my life before we blow this whole thing open, sir.”

“And what do I do about this?” Taako indicated the writhing insect in his magical grasp.

Angus had a jar, with a pre-punctured lid, and the specimen would be carefully labeled later.

Taako understood the need for stealth. And therefore slipped into a grey-and-brown ensemble. Once he disguised his eyes, he lurked in the darkened hallway outside of his baby’s room with his shortsword drawn.

Fortescue and Worley both walked right past him at different hours. Each got a blade to their throat and a whispered, “What are you doing up at this time of night?”

And then Taako cast Sleep, bound their arms and legs, and dragged them off to an empty room.

Werthers arrived closer to dawn with a steaming bowl of oatmeal that was impersonating concrete. That smelled of bitter almonds. She, too, didn’t notice Taako in the shadows.

“Time for breakfast, young master,” she said, words clipped and crisp. “I took the liberty of making you a  _ proper _ breakfast.”

Taako followed after her, staying out of her view as she set up a table.

Angus, finishing up something else at his bureau, looked at the bowl of steaming oat-crete with some dismay. “Oh. That’s. Wonderful,” he lied. “Taako isn’t here, ma’am. Could you taste it for me?”

“I would never debase myself to--” And then Taako interrupted her with the point of his blade.

“You heard the little man. Taste it.” Taako grinned. “Unless you got a good reason why not…”

Nanny Werthers blanched. Looking desperately between Angus and Taako. At her last look at Elf, blade, and bearskin, she shovelled an enormous spoonful of oat-crete into her mouth, chewed it with great difficulty, and swallowed. It took seconds, but she died where she stood.

“Poison,” whispered Taako, fighting every instinct to circle around the body and scoop up his boy to protect him from it. All the same, he stood between Angus and the body.

“Wow,” whispered Angus.

Taako was shivering from head to toe. “How soon can we get away from this madhouse?” he begged. “This place isn’t safe, sweetie.”


	14. Chapter 14

It made the headlines.

_ Homicidal Help! _ blared one broadsheet. Another declared,  _ Wonderful Wandering Wizard Saves Scion! _ While a third said,  _ McDonald Manor Mayhem! Peculation! Poison! Pandemonium! _

“They sure love their alliteration, huh?” said Taako.

Angus said little. He was used to this kind of fuss. What he wasn’t used to was the sinking sensation in his guts that he had missed something for the first time in his career. Between interviews, when Taako took him for a constitutional in Rockport’s Common Gardens. He took a detour off the past most travelled and guided angus to a hidden gazebo.

“Something’s bothering you,” he said.

“I didn’t see it,” he complained. “My whole life, the staff we had were trying to kill me and I didn’t see it. I didn’t even suspect it until you came along.”

“Well of course you didn’t.”

Angus tried to find any trace of subterfuge in Taako’s beautiful Elven face. There was none. Just the same breezy honesty he generally had whenever he was alone with Angus. “I beg your pardon, sir?”

“They’ve been trying to take your life since you were born. You grew up with that. It’s your fucked-up normal.”

Angus was still lost. “Excuse me?”

Taako told the story about how he finally lucked his way into a swanky college. He could afford the books and the uniform and the cafeteria meals, but the grant just assumed he’d be able to pay the rent somehow, and didn’t cover that part. Taako had been homeless so long that he just kept applying his usual tricks to make it on the day-to-day. Things like, changing into his one other outfit at the time so his swanky uniform wouldn’t get muddy. Because he was sleeping in a badger burrow in the campus gardens.

Or how he thought it was perfectly normal to grift for pocket money so that he could buy a pair of shoes with the correct amount of holes.

Or how he honestly asked a friend who they had to sleep with to get their accommodations, and how he was slightly offended that the friend took it as a joke.

“Took me five years to get used to the idea of furniture,” said Taako. “Even when I had a place, I was sleeping in my bedroll and cooking with Prestidigitation. I didn’t know what was allowed or anything. Homelessness was my fucked-up normal. Homelessness and all the habits were normal to me. Fucked up, but normal. You’re used to attempts on your life on the reg. Avoiding that shit is normal for you. Fucked up… but normal.” He finished his speech with a shrug. “I’m kind’a scared to find out what fucked up things other people consider their normal, tee bee haitch.”

Angus pondered the truth of this. Before Taako, the last people to touch him in a caring and considerate manner had been his parents. Sure, strangers would ruffle his hair or shake his hand, but that wasn’t the same. And he would never admit that, excluding the bear corpse, it was real nice to have someone committed to hugging him.

For every fucked up thing, there was someone for whom that thing was normal.

Which made Angus wonder what normal really was.

As if reading his mind, Taako said, “Normal is what you make it, pumpkin. You want to go out there and solve mysteries? That’s cool. That’s your brand. But… I am going to insist on making sure you’re safe while you’re doing that. Too many of your Coolio Car-ridge stories have a denouement where the bad guy tries to kill your kid cop.”

“Caleb Cleveland, sir,” corrected Angus. Though he was moderately certain Taako was doing that as a goof. Mind you, he did have a horrendous memory for names, and a general disinclination to remember people that was probably born from his days as a wandering star. In Taako’s world, today’s ally could easily be tomorrow’s betrayal. “And you have a point. Caleb Cleveland wins because he has an author on his side. I’m a regular, everyday little boy, and… well. Having some backup just makes sense.”

Taako Swept Angus up in his arms. “That’s such good news, baby,” he said. And added a kiss and some soft purring. Something Angus hadn’t heard or felt since they’d arrived at McDonald Manor.

“I’ve got better news,” said Angus. “I’ve spoken with my new lawyer, and I’m going to pack up everything valuable in McDonald Manor and rent it out to anyone who wants to live in a castle, sir. A-and the revenue from that and my detective business? It ought to be enough for you to open a restaurant and maybe train some people.”

Taako’s grip grew slack and his purr faltered. “I… I can’t really cook... any more. I’m so afraid I’ll… hurt… someone.”

“Or a little house in Ravensroost, sir. You were happy up there. I could see it. To be honest, I just want to get away from McDonald Manor for a while. It’s too close to a lot of hurt, sir.”

Taako hugged him some more. “Yeah. I get that.” A kiss to Angus’ temples. “I have itchy feet, darling. I’ve never stayed anywhere longer than three years. I’ve never kept anything longer than seven… I don’t think I know  _ how _ to settle down.”

Angus hugged him back. “Maybe? We can figure out a new fucked-up normal together, sir.”

“You should say ‘messed-up normal’. You’re five. You don’t get the big swears until eighteen.”

“How do you feel about ‘effed’, sir?”

“I’ll allow it.” He sniffed deeply. “I smell funnel cake. Let’s go find it.”


	15. Chapter 15

The parcel had arrived from the printing house Angus had sent a letter to some months ago. And it was a surprise that it arrived at all, considering that his home was a traveller’s caravan and therefore  _ no fixed abode. _ But it was addressed to Angus McDonald from Caleb Cleveland.

And it contained a galley copy of  _ Caleb Cleveland and the Case of the Sinister Chef. _

With the author’s notes in the margins.

A brief letter inside the cover read,  _ Dear Mr McDonald, Having investigated the case you put forward, I felt that chronicling this adventure was of greater import than some of my other exploits. I wish you every success in your endeavours, and will follow your career with great interest. As always, this comes from the hand of my most faithful chronicler, _ and then the Author’s signature.

_ PS - do take due care in your cases. Not every villain is squeamish about harming a child. _

“Told you so,” said Taako, reading over Angus’ shoulder.

“Do you mind if I read this to myself first? There might be things in here that could disturb you.”

Taako nodded. “Sure. Take over the reading nook. We got another day before we reach Emerald Marsh anyhow.”

Angus snuggled into the nook, which had perfect little windows for catching just the right light for reading. Caleb Cleveland found himself in a place remarkably like Glamour Springs and a scene reminiscent of the way the remains of the show had been found. Burned Stage Wagon, forty bodies and all. Usually, Angus was quite into the way a Caleb Cleveland book described a scene, but this gave him chills.

This was a real crime. This was a real event. Those forty deaths were real. Forty graves. Forty families. Forty souls crying out for justice.

Angus just got up to Caleb finding the abandoned Traveller’s Wagon when their own pulled up.

“We’re here, my dear. Come show these fabulous people your beautiful face, pumpkin. They’re -uh- kind’a not friendly right now.”

Angus put a mark in the book and wriggled his way around to the little door by the driver’s seat. The effect of his emergence was electrical. The town guards, previously threatening Taako with their halberds, withdrew the threat with immediacy and a certain level of chagrin.

“He’s with me, gentlemen. We have an appointment with your Mayor. She’s expecting us.”

The guards pulled away from blocking egress, but one said, “You let a known poisoner drive you around?”

Taako flinched.

“I’ve found more than sufficient evidence for Taako’s innocence,” said Angus. “Besides, he’s been found innocent in a court of law. The transcripts are public record.”

And the first statement had more impact than the last two.

Taako kept his head down and tucked his hair away as they drove on, following a mounted watchmen as he lead them on their way. He could likely hear every murmur of every stranger they passed. L. L. Lyre had yet to publish this latest Caleb Cleveland novel, so the rumours about Glamour Springs were still abounding.

And, at the sight of some dried Elf ears dangling in an arcanist’s supplier’s window, Angus could guess that Elves weren’t exactly welcome in this town.

Angus wriggled into Taako’s lap and for the first time since they met, voluntarily initiated a hug with his strange new guardian. He could hear Taako’s heart beating faster, and a soft, exhale-only purr that stuttered unevenly. Angus didn’t need to look at Taako’s hair to discern that the Elf was stressing out, but when Angus did check, all loose strands had become a tight frizz.

“It’s going to be okay, sir,” reassured Angus. “This place is… a lot Elfist…” And he really hoped that Taako didn’t perceive that  _ Elves Go Home _ sign on someone’s lawn. Right next to one that read  _ Make Emerald Marsh Great Again. _

Taako had almost vanished inside the shroud of his clothes. “They’re sure gonna be pissed when they realise they’re surrounded by ancient Elven architecture.”

Angus looked. All he could see was swampy land and buildings on stilts.

“Look at the trees, baby.”

He did, wondering what he was looking for… and just like that picture that was both rabbit and duck, it clicked. The trees all around Emerald Marsh were  _ shaped. _ He could see fragments of Elven cotes and stairwells. Overgrown by moss and climbing plants. Shattered by lightning and marred by fires long gone, but they were still there. Still evident to anyone with eyes to see them.

They made it to the Mayor’s building, and Taako gripped tight to Angus’ hand all the way to the office.

The mayor was cordial enough, and had provided booster cushions for Angus’ chair so that he could see over the Mayoral desk.

“I wasn’t aware you were coming with an...escort.”

Angus took a deep breath. Might as well bull this out and dare these people to do anything about it. “This is Taako. He saved my life from a wild bear while he was in the middle of Luume’irma. He’s more or less my new guardian now.”

Taako eased out of his clothing concealment. “Hi…?” he managed.

“That’s an Elf,” said the Mayor.

“Well spotted, ma’am. And if either of us are made… unwelcome, here. We can just leave and allow your troublesome case to remain unsolved.”

“Wouldn’t that besmirch your reputation?” challenged the Mayor. “Thirty cases before you turned six? And none of them left unsolved.”

“I haven’t taken this case, yet, ma’am,” said Angus. “And once word gets around that Angus McDonald, world’s greatest detective, couldn’t work with your local atmosphere of hate… well. I rather think that would besmirch  _ your _ reputation more than mine.”

“And yet you’re hanging around with one of  _ those.” _

“Who also foiled a long-term plan to embezzle my family fortune and murder me, ma’am. No doubt you’ve heard of the Homicidal Help?”

Mayor Fentwhistle boggled at Taako, who was lighting a very small pipe. Watched in stunned amazement as Taako took a long, deep drag that uncurled his golden locks. “It’s smoking  _ dandelions _ in my office.”

“Someone’d shoot me if I was smoking it outside, hombre,” said Taako. “Admit it. This is not the friendliest little town in the world. And for the record, the pronoun is ‘he’.”

“It’s well-known amongst the proper kind of people that dandelion is commonly used as a remedy for anxiety amongst all varieties of Elves,” said Angus, letting Mayor Fentwhistle decide whether or not she was the proper kind. “And considering some… certain shop wares… Taako has good reason to be stressed.”

“Abso-fuckin’-lutely, little man. I spent too much of my life in terror of ending as someone’s dark magic ingredients. Don’t want to go down  _ that _ portion of memory lane again. Thanks so much.” Taako took another drag, which seemed to end it for the contents of the pipe, seeing as he tucked it away. “Can you even imagine living with the permanent fear of being caught and then dismembered alive? For like… seventy percent of your entire life?”

Angus sighed, “Okay, that’s enough. I think we’ve made our point. Taako’s safety must be guaranteed. In writing. Or I won’t take the case.”


	16. Chapter 16

There was some wrangling, of course. Taako was not allowed to sing, dance, or perform magical acts, unless it was clearly in the act of saving a life. He had to be clearly visible at all times and escorted by a minimum of two guards from the City Watch. And since Taako followed wherever Angus lead, he was plausibly the safest little boy in the world.

The murder scene was in the base of a coffin dam, where the people of Emerald Marsh had been attempting to build a better bridge and improve the roads. As they were clearing away the mud, artefacts had been found, and the entire operation halted for an archaeological dig.

Of course the victim’s body had been removed. The funeral was due to happen in a week. The murder weapon was a bludgeon, judging by the reddish-brown splash against the wall and floor of the scene.

And thanks to the confusion surrounding the discovery, the perpetrator's tracks were no longer visible. While Angus looked at the crime scene, Taako found interest in the rest of the dig. Picking his way to spots of interest and then crouching to look at the compacted mud. He finally stopped in one square defined by string, and seemed to be mucking about there with every sign of fascination.

The murder seemed straightforward. Multiple blows with a blunt object, likely the bloodstained rock near where the body had lain. Which left motive and opportunity to consider. But not before Angus made certain that the rock actually was the murder weapon.

He picked his way over to where Taako was drawing something out of the mud.

“I think I know what they were trying to hide,” said Taako. “Bad news, they couldn’t have hid it forever.” He had a small, carved stone idol. Oghma as an Elf with a scroll. “This looks like somewhere about the fifteenth century before the First Fallen Empire.” He absently tucked it into his satchel of holding.

Definite proof that Elves had lived here before humans. “Could that be faked, sir?”

“Not in volume,” said Taako. “These things are all over the fuckin’ place. I just wanted to get one that was intact.”

And, as if to prove his point, one of their guards literally tripped over one.

“That could be motive, sir. But I need to check the body.”

Taako made a face. “I really wish detective stuff wasn’t so gross, pumpkin.”

“Come on, sir,” chided Angus, leading the way. “You’ve seen dead bodies before.”

“Yeah, but when I was checking them, I was checking them for valuables.” Taako shrugged. “Dude’s gotta eat y’know.”

Angus let that one pass. Taako’s crimes were a part of his history and, he had to admit, useful as a glimpse into the mind of the necessary criminal. And sometimes a good detective had to break the law to get to the truth. Taako certainly knew how to break laws out of necessity. Some of his more rambling stories had said as much.

It was an hour’s walk to the funerary home that was also the morgue. An excellent opportunity to learn about the swamp plants and which ones were useful. An exercise that got Taako to calm down significantly from his near-permanent paranoia.

“There’s thirty ways to prepare the leaves of that one, and the roots make a reasonable substitute for potato,” Taako lectured. “That moss over there is hydrophilic. Use a bed of it underneath anything else and you can dry it out in less than a day. Of course, there has to be a rack, 'cause if any food touches it, it’s poison. Gotta be careful with that shit, sweetie.”

And then one of their guards said, “Of course,  _ you’d _ know all about poison.”

“I know enough not to use it,” grumbled Taako. He was reaching for his pipe again.

Angus distracted him, pointing out a flower. “What’s that one, sir?”

“Oooh, Faerie Bell. The flowers make a tea that can cure any headache, and the roots, if steeped in vinegar, can help a pregnant person get rid of an unwanted pregnancy. As for the leaves…” Taako trailed off. “...something about hormones? It helps… it helps someone… special…” He started a cold sweat, and looked like he was almost ready to puke. Even his usually sure step faltered.

They were in sight of the road that lead to the funerary home. “We’re nearly there, sir. I could definitely use your perception checks on this one.”

Suitably derailed, Taako rallied from his strange bout of sickness. “Really? I thought you were the detective, here, pumpkin.”

Angus smiled for him. “You spotted the Oghma idol, sir. And that was the same colour as the soil around it. I didn’t even see where it was.”

Once on the road, they could clearly see the building. “There were hundreds of those statues, Angel. I’m sure anyone could’ve found them.”

Angus began to run. Eager to get on to the next step of the case. “Come on, sir! It’s time for more observations!”

“Uh-uh!” Taako looked scared for both their lives. “Let’s just walk at a brisk pace, okay? I don’t wanna get shot for running while Elven.”

Angus had seen the scars Taako usually concealed with his clothing. A few of them were bodkin-head holes. That sort of thing had happened, and -sadly- was likely to happen again.

Fortunately for the case, the mortician-examiner had left the body as it had been found. Including the position they were found in.

Angus sat on a high stool and Taako stood out of their light for the examination as it finally commenced.

“Lividity indicates that the victim wasn’t moved post-mortem. Cause of death seems to be multiple blows with a blunt object.”

“A right-angled blunt object,” noted Taako. “Wasn’t the rock at the dig site a river rock?”

“It was, sir.” Angus took some rapid notes. “Well spotted. Please continue.”

The examiner did that. “There are no obvious signs of re-dressing, so -ah- intimate interference doesn't seem to be a motive…” he searched the deceased's pockets. Fantasy chapstick, some silver coins, a spare hair tie, and a flyer for the local band at the local tavern.

“Ameteur,” scoffed Taako. He opened the fantasy chapstick to reveal that it hid a folded letter in Elvish. He smoothed it flat and got out a pair of rose-tinted glasses. Only once he had them on, did he read. “Elven History and Heritage Board of New Elfington. Huh. Small world. Blah blah interesting suggestions of a lost city… yaddah yaddah… please notify us by return of post if there are any significant finds… hmm hmm hmm…  _ significant reward. _ Oooh. The plot thickens, Ango. Our archaeologist was hoping to cash in.” Taako went for their boots, next, finding a small, gold charm in their sock. An Elven figure in a T-pose. “And that,” cooed Taako, “is some motive. She’s worth about five GP by weight alone, but this… this is the ancient goddess Auh’brii. Champion of flame, hearth, and children. This was a protection amulet at some time, likely for a teenager. The ones they made for babies were wooden… and they wooden last.”

Angus groaned. “I get it, sir. That was almost a goof you had there.”

“Yeah, I’ve been under some stress,” grumbled Taako, but there was a gleam there. In Taako’s mismatched eyes, Angus had just won a prize. He checked the other boot and sock. He checked anywhere that a hidden pocket could be. There was nothing else of value.

And by that time, the body was naked. There was an imprint on the archaeologist’s back. Angus had the examiner hold the body so he could make an accurate portrait using a magic marker he had in his detective kit.

Even a baby could draw what they saw if they were using a magic marker.

It was wide and weird and almost looked like an arrow pointing two ways at once, and it didn’t make any sense to Angus.

But there was definitely a case. Someone could have made off with valuable, ancient Elven artefacts. And worse, it was undeniable proof that Elves had lived here before the humans moved in.


	17. Chapter 17

In the end, it was a pretty straightforward case. None of the Elfist citizens of Emerald Marsh were in love with the idea that their town was built on the ruins of an Elven city. Nor were they fond of the half-Elf burial the archaeologist had uncovered, thus proving that there had once been a fellowship between Elves and Humans.

Money, greed, xenophobia and prejudice combined. The Archaeologist was trying to earn a decent living. The townsfolk were trying to keep their area ‘pure’. Whatever that meant. And the man in charge of the bridge construction project had had a moment of weakness and used a stone lintel, carved with an Elf face on one corner, to subdue and then bludgeon the archaeologist.

But Angus was happy to have solved it and Taako was happy to be heading the fuck away from Emerald Marsh.

Beyond the city limits.

Beyond their escort.

Beyond their stupid fucking laws telling him what he couldn’t do.

Since he couldn’t dance and drive, Taako sang.

“I was born under a wandering star… I was born under a wandering star…  Wheels are made for rolling/ Mules are made to pack/ I've never seen a sight that didn't look better looking back… I was born under a wandering star… Mud can make you prisoner, and the plains can bake you dry/ Snow can burn your eyes, but only people make you cry…”

And then Angus McDangus popped out of the caravan. “That’s a sad song, sir.”

“Sad song for a sad life,” said Taako. “I’ve spent more time out of my life napping in a badger hole or a short cave somewhere than I ever have in a made bed, my man. No life for a kid, but…” he shrugged. “It’s the only life I got.”

Angus sat beside him. Real close. Cosy. “It has its perks, though. Especially with a caravan like this one.”

Taako was already purring softly and he knew it. Uncle Irma could do weird things to a life. He swooped his cloak and his arm around his kid. “Gotta admit, this time I got better company.”

“And the food’s terrific, too,” said Angus.

“Yeah. Terrifying.”

Angus squeezed Taako’s hand. “I know you feel rotten about… _the incident,_ sir. It’s still no reason to not look after yourself.”

“I fed forty people their deaths, baby. Innocent or not, I… I did that. And… I keep thinking. What could I have done different? What could I have changed? Something I said. Some way I said it. Some… training or something. But when I get down to it… It’s all because I didn’t want to share.” A deep breath. A sigh. He could say it. “Forty people died because I was a selfish asshole.”

“No, sir,” said Angus. “Forty people died because Sazed was a _jealous_ asshole. Your show? Your cooking? They had nothing to do with it. He was jealous of everything you earned.”

Taako said, “Thanks sweetie. I’m trying to get that through my thick skull, honest. It’s… hard. Like… I don’t remember how I _got_ the show. One morning, I wake up _so_ fucking sick, and there’s this… Stage Wagon. Supplies, horse to draw the cart. Everything I could need. And my face on it. One of my drunken daydreams come true, right down to the name. ‘S like I suddenly got a fairy godmother and she picked my best wish. So I just… rolled with it.”

“You still earned the fame, sir. That was you. If you hadn’t had the talent, there wouldn’t have been a show for Sazed to get jealous of.”

Taako hugged him and dropped a kiss on the boy’s forehead. “This is why I keep you around, little man. I like the way you think.”

“Really sir? I thought you kept me around because you were biologically compelled to look after me.”

Taako grinned. “You’re turning into a real little shit, Agnes,” he said proudly. And then abruptly changed the subject. “Had enough of your nerd book?”

“I finished it, sir. Just like in real life, the chef was an unwitting patsy who was framed for the deaths at his show. The assistant who did it wanted to start some kind of franchise chain of restaurants, but nobody could cook like the chef. Of course, some names have been changed, and… uh… the character based on you was real pitiful at the beginning. I think the bear story might have gotten around and… it’s more gross in the book.”

That had its pluses and minuses. “Of course,” he said. “But is it any _good?”_

Angus grinned. “I might be biased, but I think it’s the best book yet.”

“Well get it out and read it, pumpkin. It’s a long road between here and Ravensroost.”


	18. Chapter 18

Ravensroost had changed. The economy was circling the drain and it showed. People were flooding towards the bigger cities. Neverwinter. Rockport. Goldcliff. What little there was of the money was pooling there, and people were desperate for work.

Ravensroost was ebbing away, and those that remained weren’t doing so great.

“See?” said Taako. “I ruin everything just by being there.”

Angus just sighed and rolled his eyes.

The Governor’s former mansion had been reconverted into an inn from its former duty as a hostel. It boasted luxury rooms and the best food that Ravensroost had to offer.

Magnus was no longer mayor. The people left in Ravensroost soon realised that a good-hearted lunk who wanted to protect people didn’t exactly have the best brain for reforming an entire town, let alone swinging them the best deals. He had good ideas and the best intentions, but the worst political savvy.

Besides, he was his happiest when he was building something.

He was happy to see Taako and his caravan, too, and ran to greet them the instant he heard the news. One smiling face and all the enthusiasm that that big, beefy, man-beef could hold just… made Taako’s day, somehow. As if they were long-lost friends re-uniting after an extended absence.

Taako didn’t get a chance to hop down from the caravan once he parked it. Magnus hugged him off the step and nearly crushed the air out of his lungs.

“You came back,” he cheered. “You came back, you came back!”

“...i need to breathe,” he croaked.

Magnus put him down. “Sorry, buddy. I’m just so glad to see someone come back to Ravensroost.”

Taako looked him up and down. He wasn’t  _ that _ glad to see him. “Sure your wife won’t get jealous?”

Magnus laughed, and mock-whispered, “She must never know about our special bond.” And then he spotted Angus. “Hey-hey! It’s the little guy!” He was more careful with sweeping Angus off the step. “It’s been a year. How can you still be this tiny?”

“McDonalds are late bloomers, sir.”

“There’s the lady of the hour,” said Taako as he spotted Julia. “You made an honest man out of this lug, yet?”

“You know I did that before you left,” she enveloped him in a hug, lifting him off the ground as she did so. She was a blacksmith just like her father, taller than Magnus by a small number of inches, and was the furthest from the words ‘dainty’ or ‘petite’ as a humanman could get without being part Orc. “You’re looking better.”

“Cyanosis is really my colour,” he gasped, only half joking. And despite her best efforts to stop him, he caught her scent. And the biggest little change about the Burnsides’ little family.

As in: it was going to be enlarged in a year or less.

Julia put him down and opened her arms for Ango. “Gimmie that baby, I need some kiddie hugs.”

“You can’t steal him, I stole him first,” quipped Taako.

“Glad to see you, too, ma’am.”

Julia smooched his cheek before putting him down. “And here I was thinking Taako would have been a bad influence on you.” She began to lead the mule and the caravan off to one of the grassy swards so the mule could graze. “Everything sorted out with your estate?”

“It’s under new management, thank you. There were… complications.”

“The household staff were trying to kill him,” Taako translated. “We sorted that out.”

Magnus boggled. “How many did you kill?”

You have  _ one _ episode of Luume where you skin, gut, and cook a bear… “None, actually. The nanny counted as a suicide since she was trying to feed my boy poison. She voluntarily ate it though.”

“You did have a sword pointed at her back, sir,” clarified Angus.

“She could have still done literally anything else and she’d have hanged with the rest of them,” grumbled Taako. He decided to derail that particular angle of conversation with something people loved to talk about - themselves. “How’ve you been doing over here, my dude? Was there a city-wide day of mourning when Taako left town?”

Magnus laughed. “Actually, we held a festival,” he joked. “Taako-shaped piñatas and everything.”

Why did this lug just fucking  _ get _ him when it took the rest of the entire world ages to get into that special Taako groove? Even his brilliant baby boy had to take a few goes to get into his unique style of intimacy. “Sounds like the usual bomb-ass party. But seriously, what’s happened here? This place is halfway to ghost town status.”

Julia sighed. “Miller labs. They made a whole bunch of automated manufactories that can make wrought iron furniture at a fraction of the cost.”

“They’re even doing bulk horseshoes,” added Magnus. “It’s sucking the life out of cottage industries.”

“That, and the wars over those stupid High Artefacts. Some idiot turns an entire town into gold, including himself, and some other idiot goes,  _ my turn! _ Like they think it won’t happen again.”

“Armies are taking up all the young fighters they can, eating up the gold anyone has,” complained Magnus. “This whole world’s gonna eat itself.”

Taako noticed that the Dew Drop had closed. “No innkeeper?”

“No business. Nobody comes for craftsmanship, any more. Those few that do prefer to stay at the Overlook Manse. They pay more, which is great for us, but they don’t like to leave good reviews or tell their friends. Which is bad.”

Taako knew where this was headed. “All right. You twisted my arm. I’ll become head chef for a pace. Teach your people everything they need to know. The important part is what you’re going to call a referral discount. People come up here for some stuff, they stay at the hotel, that’s fine. But when they leave… you tell them they get a- a ten percent  _ discount _ if they can convince a couple of their friends to come up.”

Magnus made a face. “That’ll work?”

“Trust me, bubala. There is no-one on the world more tight-fisted than a rich man. They’ll go for it.”

Ango was looking both excited and concerned. “Are you sure you’re ready to cook for multiple people, sir?”

“I’ll stay away from elderberries and keep my wand in my room. That’s the other caveat. We get a place in there and one of your barns or something can keep the caravan safe in case of trouble. Sure you’ll be glad to get a mule back for trading. I can literally cook anything and make it delicious.”

They took Taako’s offer to the council, who took it to their Mayor. It seemed like a good enough idea.


	19. Chapter 19

Angus named it  _ The Hole in the Wall _ after one of Caleb Cleveland’s adventures, and Taako was working on economy mode. Local produce only. And since Ravensroost could only farm on mountainside terraces, the vegetables were scarce at best. Pine nuts were plentiful, so they became the new garnish. Almost the new staple. Toasted, they could accompany anything. Milled into a paste, they could be added with other nuts for stuffing. Mixed with berries, it could become a form of dessert.

But not elderberries.

Never elderberries.

Forage from the mountainside forests could supply other things. Wild herbs in season. Bears, of course. Deer and goats. And the caves provided some interesting fare. Thanks to a previous encounter with Kalen, Taako knew all about cooking dire slugs from the cave systems, and most of the complimentary mushrooms.

Only the gods knew how the elite would react to bear liver paté, or tongue, or brains in garlic butter. Thank Oghma that  _ Haunch a la Taako _ tasted delicious no matter what the origin meat. He could re-name the sweetbreads as  _ mountain oysters _ or some fancy High Elven for sweetbreads.

But since bear was difficult to get, he was determined to use every part of the animal but the roar. Same with venison, to be honest. Mountain goats could be farmed, but it was a risky game.

He was probably safer over-pricing that shit and upselling its gourmet factor.

And currently, he was in experimentation mode. Trying cuts, methods of cooking, flavour profiles. And there was little that bacon and curds couldn’t improve in anything at all.

Taako had few qualms about transmuting copper to gold to make gold leaf. Given his prices, customers would expect more than a little glitter and glitz with their food.

He wasn’t using that for his taste-testers. Locals, all. And his baby, of course. Taste-testing it himself had had a little impact on his physique.

He pretended not to care. He would be hiding in the back rooms and not coming out for anything. Making certain that nobody had cause to complain.

“Are those crumbed sweetbreads?” said Magnus.

“More or less,” said Taako. “In order extend the supply, I’ve mashed them with some more ordinary meat, herbs, spices and a little grain flour. I was thinking of calling it  _ oeuf de montagne _ . Served individually on a plinth of au gratin potato with a decorative salad and some roe.”

Julia snorted. “Tell me it’s dire slug roe?”

“It’s whatever roe I got, sweetheart. I keep it pickled in my special brine brew, so it’s not gonna go off on us. But… I do have a  _ lot _ of slug eggs, so… most likely to be dire slug roe.”

Steven Waxmen lifted a cover. “Oooh, that one looks fancy.”

“Bear rib rack roast served with a rich tongue gravy and surrounding a wild herb and nut stuffing. Seasonal vegetables on the side. Customers get the glitter.”

“I’m trying to get him to name it anything else  _ but _ Angus’ Aid, sir,” said Angus.

“They also get a side of bear liver paté,” said Taako.

Julia was sizing him up. “Okay. What do you do with the brains?”

“That, my dear, is reserved for the  _ bisque grise.” _ He lifted another cover. “Served with clootie dumplings and a toasted pine nut garnish.”

She glared at him. “Yeah, I’m abstaining from that one.”

“Of course we’re not calling dire slug  _ dire slug _ on the menu,” said Angus. “It’s  _ gros limace _ prepared assorted ways. And often served with mushrooms.”

“And the desserts are the usual assortment of pies, tarts, custards, and preserves,” dismissed Taako. “Danishes, pastries, et cetera. All made with local honey and maple syrups. Do you guys get crabs?”

There was a shocked look amongst the Burnsides.

“Only if you go to Roundheel House,” laughed Steven.

“The  _ shellfish, _ darling. Actual ocean crabs. Do they inhabit the waters underneath this place?”

Steven looked around. All the others present for the taste testing shrugged. “Never tried,” he said. “Guess we could set down some pots, give ‘er a try.”

“Just to play it safe, I won’t put seafood on the menu unless we get some. But this seems like a varied enough menu to survive any shortages, right?”

“Dude,” said Ralph Cottswain, future kitchen staff, “you could feed the whole village on this menu.”

Long as it drew in the clients, though. Taako clapped in a let’s-get-this-done way. “Okay. Let’s train up some pro-style kitchen staff. Ango-sweetie? You’re going to have to be waitstaff. Apparently, there’s laws about letting kids into places that use alcohol and sharp knives.”

“That’s fine, sir. I’m still a lot slow on all of the prep and handling anyway.”

Those who volunteered, including some of the Roundheel girls who were retiring from their previous occupation, were in for some hard truths. They were used to standing around and looking pretty. They would learn quick how to stand around and be busy.

“First up - let’s see what everyone’s good at. I’ve formalised all the recipes, we’re going to rotate stations. See what everyone’s got, and learn the jobs. We got this.”


	20. Chapter 20

For six months, the restaurant’s reputation grew. For a year, it was popular. Life began to flow into Ravensroost. It didn’t matter whether they came for the food or for the craftsmanship, the point was that they came, and ended up getting both.

Julia had her baby early. Early enough to be frightening. Magnus named her Lucinda, and Taako shortened the name to Lulu within seconds of meeting the tiny little girl.

And then the investor came. Lucre Goldrich.

They loved the food. They loved the craftsmanship. They loved the town. Bit by bit, they invested in Ravensroost. They told everyone to let them manage all the income. And bit by bit, everyone was bought out of everything they built.

Taako saw the signs, and asked Magnus to upgrade his Traveller’s Caravan so that it could hold three adults and two kids.

Steven Waxmen was old to begin with, and worn to a whisper by the way things turned out. The winter ‘flu got him, but Julia always said it was the investor who killed him. Disappointed to death.

Taako was nearly there himself. Drained to the point of malaise by Goldrich’s ‘little adjustments’. Alternately angered and depressed by the Ship of Theseus Effect. Watching as his unique flair was slowly eaten alive by the humdrum, ordinary, bland, blank, blah  _ averageness _ that everyone came to expect everywhere.

It came to him as he came back to the Hammer and Tongs after a particularly late night’s dinner serving. Half the clientelle didn’t observe the posted opening hours and the other half thought that those hours were flexible if one was paying enough. And the same applied to the early meals, too. Taako had attempted to explain that he was running a  _ gourmet _ restaurant and people didn’t come for  _ gourmet _ breakfasts… but Goldrich simply told him, “We’re not running an experience, here. More people means more work. More work means more staff. More staff means less… frills. People expect quality in quantity. They don’t care about the artistry of the plate. They don’t care about exotic spices. They just want a good meal in a good atmosphere.”

Taako had said, “Fuckin’ buy me out, then. I’m done.”

He had three hundred gold and sore feet.

Lulu was awake, staring at Taako as if he were Santa Candles. Angus had been babysitting her and fallen asleep on the couch next to her swinging crib.

“Hey there, shrimp,” Taako cooed.

“Tata,” giggled the baby, bouncing in place.

Taako put the peg in the hole that stopped the crib swinging and scooped up Maggie’s kid. “Yup. Unca Tata’s here. Way better than Unca Ango.”

Lulu couldn’t pronounce her G’s yet, so she said, “Anyo… Anyo nigh’ nigh’.”

“Yup,” Taako agreed as he sat, dandling Lulu on his knee. “Time for Lulu nigh’ nigh’ too.” He held the baby close and purred for her. Leaning back into the soft cushions of the couch. And just… rested… his eyes…

And woke up well after dawn with Maggie easing Lulu out of his arms with a cheerful, “Come on, Princess Stinkypants. Daddy’s got you.”

Taako moaned and nudged Ango. “Hey. Hey. We gotta stop crashing on the couch, kiddo. Help me climb the stairs, my knees don’t wanna do it on their own.”

Julia was cooking something from Taako’s own cookbooks. “Don’t you have a breakfast shift?”

“Nope. Quit,” Taako announced. “I’m sleeping all fucking day and then we’re headed out.”

Clanging cacophony. “What?”

“This isn’t Ravensroost, any more,” said Taako. “It’s a summer holiday resort with some people still trying to live in it.” Gods, he was stiff and sore. “We tried. We failed. The town is dead, long live…” a yawn cracked his jaw. “Goldrich’s fuckin’ coin farm.”

The humanman voices faded to nothing as Taako dragged himself up to the bedroom he shared with Angus.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out, sir,” said his baby boy.

“Eh, we gave it a shot. Didn’t work.” Yawn. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“There’s been other times?”

It was so hard to focus on anything. Let alone keep his eyes open. “...’ll tell you ‘bout grampa Tostaada’s farm. Later,” he mumbled. “When’m not so… tired…” The bed was soft, and Taako didn’t even fight it when Angus helped him take his boots off and helped him extricate himself from the more restrictive articles of his clothing.

He was asleep before his sweet little boy finished tucking him in.

What a good kid. He didn’t deserve this.

Nobody did.

* * *

 

Angus crept downstairs on tiptoe and in stocking feet. Taako was exhausted three ways. Body, mind, and spirit.

It had to have wrecked him, watching a dream get whittled to nothing by someone whose vision didn’t reach further than the contents of the till. Angus couldn’t imagine anyone taking over his job with some kind of money management thing and then slowly edging him out by a process of micromanagement and slight adjustments to reach a wider audience.

But then again, he hadn’t imagined that the Manor staff were after his life, either.

“It isn’t fair. He worked so hard. This is twice he’s had something he loves pulled out from under his feet,” said Julia.

Angus froze on the stairwell. They couldn’t see him, he was hidden by the wall. They didn’t know he was listening. And so very many cases had been solved by listening to conversations.

“Worse, it’s something he’s good at. Like… phenomenally good. You’d think he’s been cooking for longer than he’s been alive, you know? He built it all up from scratch and now… Three hundred gold. That won’t last.”

Julia said, “If we sell the house… we could pool it. Find somewhere else. We have the caravan. We can…”

“Watch your father’s home get turned into a tourist attraction? A little villa with a small kitchen staff? Leave it to get knocked down and replaced with a ritzy jewelry store?”

Sigh. “Dad isn’t here. This isn’t the home I grew up in any more. It’s been dying since that new manufactory opened on the outskirts of Rockport. I can pack up my smithing tools and you can pack up your woodworking tools and we can… we can use the funds to start something new, maybe. It’s better than staying here and watching my home rot away with all this…  _ sugar.” _

“Varnish over woodworm,” Magnus made that little noise he did when offering Lucinda a spoonful of something. “All shiny on the surface but it’s rotten underneath.” Another open-your-mouth noise. “You know we won’t get the last offer he made.”

There was no questioning who ‘he’ was. Lucre Goldrich. Some kind of weird economic vampire that sucked the life out of the town and made gold come out, but only for himself. Angus could grow to hate that man. If Lucre Goldrich ever needed Angus’ help… he’d have to decline.

Taako’s words, often used jokingly when someone said,  _ Fuck you _ in his direction… those would come to the fore if that ever happened. Angus could easily imagine his savagery when he said, “You can’t afford me.”

He could wait for that revenge. Serve it at temperatures so cold that it would  _ burn. _

“I know,” said Julia. “He can name his price and we can sell every scrap we can’t take with us and still not have enough to build a new life elsewhere…” She took a deep breath. Blew a long raspberry that made Lucinda giggle. “Angus? I’ve made a bunch of Taako’s temptation pancakes if you’re finished eavesdropping.”

How did she  _ do _ that? Angus descended the last of the stairs and said, “It’s a bad habit, I know, ma’am. And I’d be lying if I said I’d never do it again. But I would like some pancakes, though.”

She already had a plate of them ready. “Come and sit down and discuss options.”

Unfortunately, Angus didn’t see many. Taako received a small allowance to see to Angus’ needs and pretty much all of it went on pants and shoes before a single copper went near food. Fortunately a chef could legally take home anything the clients at the restaurant rejected, so they were all well fed on rich people’s leavings.

Increasingly bland and samey leavings, but food was food and Angus had no reason to complain.

He finished two pancakes before he said, “McDonald Manor is being held in trust. All the fancy stuff is in storage or loaned out to museums while I rent it to people who want to live in a manor. And the rent is also being held in a trust.” He had no real desire to live in there again. It was too big. Too empty. Too full of old nightmares. Odd how that he had everything he needed with Taako and that tiny travellers caravan.

Not so tiny now, since Magnus had expanded it. Room enough for two little families, and anything they could squeeze into the multitude of storage areas inside it.

“We could go to Rockport,” said Magnus. “You can be the detective and Taako and I will be your sidekicks.”

“Magnus,” chided Julia. “You’re proposing you live off a  _ child’s _ work?”

“He’s good at it. Remember last week when he solved five crimes just by reading a newspaper?”

“Maybe we could all find work in Rockport,” Angus proposed. “And if not there, then Neverwinter. There’s always something for someone in Neverwinter.”

“We’ll spend most of our money getting there,” murmured Julia. “There’d  _ better _ be work in Neverwinter.”

“I don’t see why not, ma’am. You’re an excellent blacksmith. Mr Burnsides is brilliant at woodwork. Taako’s a wizard and a chef… there’s lots you could all do.”

Julia was glaring at him. “You are a child. You shouldn’t be risking your neck for money so you can eat. If you’re on a case, at  _ least _ one of us is watching your back.”

There was nothing more he could say than, “Yes’m.”


	21. Chapter 21

It was an odd little family that struck out from Ravensroost. Three adults, one a different species to the rest. Two children. Everything they needed crammed into one Traveller’s Caravan, one mule, and the open road.

Full of bandits, vagabonds, ne’er-do-wells… and mercenaries.

This band of mercenaries figured they weren’t being paid enough to protect the small town of Fallow Falls from the conflicts springing up around them, nor the bands of raiders who had given up on farming and decided burglary was the way to go. The mercenaries had also decided that shaking down those who would pass through was a way to embellish their paycheques.

There were twenty of them. Assorted species, large and small and in-between. One of the Dwarves had incongruous flowers in his beard.

Magnus, in the driver’s seat because of his vehicle proficiency, pulled their caravan to a halt and attempted friendliness. “Hail and well met.”

“Not today,” said a gigantic Dragonborn who could plausibly be part Orc. “We need to search your caravan for contraband. Everyone out and on the side of the road.”

Even as a protection fighter, Magnus knew that he couldn’t take twenty of them.

“We don’t have anything,” lied Julia. “Just some trade tools and our clothes. Please. We need to get to Rockport before snowfall. We have children with us.”

“They can line up on the side of the road, too,” laughed one of the toughs.

Magnus hoped Taako had had enough time to hide their gold. “Okay. Okay. Just… give us a little time, okay? My baby girl can get rowdy.”

Taako had given his wizard hat to Angus, and wrapped Lucinda up in something gauzy and sparkly. He’d replaced his cloak with his bearskin and hidden his wand in his hair. He passed Lucinda to Magnus, and Angus to Julia so he could climb down.

Swan down.

Taako was putting on a performance. Distracting eye-candy. He was already a beautiful Elf, but thanks to a little makeup and a little dress-up, he was quite stunning. While they were watching Taako apparently fuss over the kids, they didn’t notice him slipping coin into unexpected places in Magnus and Julia’s clothing.

Come to think of it, Lucinda’s pants were heavier than they ever should be.

And he threw the Sea Elf searching them off his game by actively flirting. Outrageously flirting.

Taako could make Magnus feel hot under the collar when he had his game right, and he was devoted to Julia.

Of course, they didn’t find much in the caravan but the aforementioned tools, a few coppers, and some of Taako’s more garish costume jewellery. But that didn’t stop most of them from tossing everything else out onto the road.

Only the flowered Dwarf seemed to be having trouble with this. “Might as well leave ‘em be,” he argued. “They’re worse off than we are.”

“Even if they’re working their way to Neverwinter, they’d need more coin than this,” argued a different tough. A Tabaxi. They  _ knew _ about trade and business. “Merle! Do your party trick on ‘em.”

The Dwarf with the flowers got out his holy symbol and cast Zone of Truth.

Will saves happened.

“I rolled a one,” Julia blurted.

“Where’s your money?” demanded a hairy human who could almost be part bugbear.

“I don’t know. Taako hid it.”

The knives turned to Taako. “Go ahead. Kill me. Then nobody’ll find it.” He smiled. “Now that we’ve reached the imp’s ass, I suggest you let us tidy up around here and then let us pass. Maybe I’ll drop a few gold in the process. Sound like a deal?”

A dagger was at Angus’ neck. “Maybe we take the money out of this kid’s hide.”

Taako growled.

“Uh,” said Merle. “I’d… leave that kid alone if I were you…” And then he concentrated very intently on looking completely harmless. “I think this kid’s been adopted on the loom, if you catch me.”

“Pansy-ass weak Elf can’t stop me killing this entire family and stripping their corpses for valuables,” said the tough. 

His blade drew blood.

Taako cast Thunderwave, and Magic Missile with the surprise turn.

Magnus used half his move to pick up a hammer and set to a nearby brigand. Throwing himself between some flying knives and Taako. Using the rest of his action to thrust Lucinda at Julia, who already had his shield.

Julia used all her action points to get the kids under the shield and grab a frying pan.

And then Merle, the Dwarf with flowers in his hair, turned his battle hammer on his former allies. “Tried to warn you dipshits,” he snarled. “This is what you get for shorting my pay and laughing about it!”

They were lucky that these were level one thugs. But, in spite of Magnus’ best efforts, the glass cannon of the team took more than his fair share of hits. Bloody and bleeding, Taako stood in the middle of the battlefield, growling as he panted.

When he looked at Merle, the Dwarf wisely dropped his battle hammer and did his best to look harmless. “I helped you. Remember?”

“Where- where’s my baby?” Panic sneaked in past anger and turned Taako from savage to terrified. “WHERE’S MY BABY?”

The shield rose at one edge, “Here we are, sir. Safe and sound and unharmed.”

“Thank Oghma,” Taako sighed. And he took three steps towards the children before he collapsed from blood loss.

“Whoops,” said Merle with mock cheerfulness. “This is why I keep one spell slot in the barrel.” He scurried over and laid hands on the Elf. A prayer and a word had saved from the worst of it. “Best to let him have a long rest. He’ll heal soon enough.”

Magnus carried him to a bed, while Julia and Angus helped tidy up the mess. Merle roamed from corpse to corpse, divesting them of any valuables in an efficient manner. Lucinda was content to perch on their mule.

On the other end of it, their strange little family and all their things were intact, and the one remaining mercenary had a handful of silvers to his name.

“Want to ride with us for a while?” asked Magnus as they were getting ready to go.

“Eh,” grumbled Merle. “Might as well. Don’t expect me to babysit your brats.”

Julia laughed. “Now we have a hope  _ and _ a prayer.”

Merle proved useful by helping them pass the blockade on the way out, and just… stayed. Becoming the group’s unofficial grumpy grampa.


	22. Chapter 22

There wasn’t much call for woodwork. And despite the amounts of iron springing forth from assorted manufactories, there wasn’t much call for metalsmithing, either. Julia found herself intermittent jobs as a rivetter, or minor repairs on metal objects. Magnus had similar dribbles of work, and Taako had to earn his money as a line cook in the chain kitchens that fed the masses.

There was always a call for soldiers in various wars for supremely magical objects, but Merle and Magnus both had had enough of fighting. Julia had lost her taste for it since the Ravensroost revolt.

All the adults of their weird little family took up childcare in shifts.

Taako would return to their camp with sacks of food, feed the kids, and stay up for an hour or two while Angus read and Lulu listened. He often nodded off during this, but that was okay, because Merle came for his share of the food and a handful of hours telling tales guaranteed to curl Angus’ hair and make Lulu giggle. He would wake Taako up so that he would meditate and thus be fresh and ready for his next shift.

Julia was the one to curl up with the kids and hug them in their sleep, still smelling of hot metal and sweat. As she started to snore, Taako would rouse from his meditation, kiss the kids, and set out for the late-night-to-early-morning shift at some shitty greasy spoon where his job was to cook whatever a customer ordered off of their limited menu, and have it done fast. On his way out, he would high-five Magnus on his way in.

Magnus would catch what few Z’s he could before Lulu woke up and demanded ‘daddy cakes’. Which were pancakes with that special Magnus flair - almost completely ruined but still somehow edible.

Lulu’s shenanigans would wake up Angus, who would have a quick meal from the almost eternally simmering porridge pot, before going out to seek work himself.

Merle would wake, grumble about his aches and pains, and return to whatever spot-work a low-level Cleric could find. Mostly helping people heal with Thaumaturgy, or doing potty duty at the nearest fantasy hospital. Either way it stank.

Magnus stayed awake until Julia emerged from her slumber, they would share a brief hug and kiss before he fell back asleep and Julia took over the child-minding until Taako returned for a midday meditation session.

Everyone was beat. Everyone was demoralised. Everyone had short tempers and three jobs and none of them paid very well.

And then Angus came back with a copy of Kreg’s list. Someone called Gundren Rockseeker was looking for three adventurers for “the last job they’ll ever need.” He was calling for a fighter, a cleric, and a wizard.

When Merle saw it, he said, “That’s my asshole cousin. He owes me a favour or three. We could be in.”

“I don’t like it,” Taako announced. “It’s supposed to be telling us,  _ you’ll be rich. _ But it’s coming off real murder-y.”

“At least we got a competent woman to come rescue us if it goes to shit,” joked Magnus.

“Yeah, I’m following you and making sure you don’t get into shit,” said Julia.

Merle shrugged. “Better than the shit shift at Saint Relthwar’s.”

Taako followed suit. “Better than the shit shift at Clyde’s Diner,” muttered Taako.

“Better than random toy and furniture repairs,” sighed Magnus.

“Better than divorce cases,” said Angus. “Those are gross.” He sighed, “That, and my continuing missing persons file is getting ludicrous. It’s worrying.”

Lulu, not wanting to be left out, said, “Wanna piggyback.”

At least one among their number was easy to satisfy. Merle grudgingly took her for a couple of laps around their campfire and dramatically wheezed for her entertainment.

“I’m really hoping it’s not murder-y,” said Julia. “But if it is, I’ve always got a hammer I can toss.” And since she could nail a deer or a dire wolf at forty yards, nobody doubted that it could solve a lot of murder-related problems.

“You could fight in my place,” offered Magnus. “I don’t mind keeping the kids out of trouble.”

“And who’d keep  _ you _ out of trouble?” teased Julia.

“Angus?”

There was a sub-telepathic glare from her. Magnus smiled nervously and shrank in his place. “Okay. You get to rescue us if we fuck it up.”

“When you fuck it up,” said Julia. 

* * *

 

Of course, they fucked it up. Big time. Gundren had a magic armoured glove that essentially turned him into the fantasy dark phoenix and he was headed straight to Phandalin. Magnus, Taako and Merle had picked up another competent woman - an Orc named Killian. She was tied up in whatever made her and the Black Spider speak in an indescribable static, but she seemed like one of the good guys. Or at least, one of the ones not on the side of the bad guys.

And as a bonus, she had some knowledge about the glove.

Which meant she had to know something about stopping it.

Maybe.

As they were within sight of Phandalin, they could see that Gundren had already been stopped. Julia was carrying the Dwarf over her shoulders.

Magnus couldn’t help but grin. “There’s my baby.”

Taako was instantly at his shoulder. “Where’s the ki-- Oh. There they are.”

Twenty feet from Julia, trailing behind, Angus was steering the Caravan, and Lulu was riding the mule. A distant, piping voice shouted, “Hello, sirs!” and Angus waved.

“EYES ON THE PATH!” Taako yelled back.

Magnus pulled the cart to a halt and ran out to join his wife. Taako, on the other hand, made his beeline for the children in general and Angus in particular.

Killian chose Julia. “Don’t touch the gauntlet! It’s incredibly dangerous!”

Magnus knocked Gundren off of Julia’s shoulders as they hugged, laughing as she swung him around.

Killian intersected husband and wife to drag them away from the temporarily unconscious Dwarf. “Get away, get away, get away! Danger!”

Merle was the only one who headed towards Gundren. It didn’t end well. The gauntlet had its hooks in him and he was predestined to explode. Gundren was an angry Dwarf to begin with, and talking him down seemed like worse than an uphill battle. He’d almost got there with Aunt Blarg, and then that Orc kid they rescued earlier went and ruined it all.

He could feel something tugging at his clothes, yanking him backwards off his feet.

A green arm holding him, and a voice shouting, “Run, run, run, run,  _ run!” _

Even their usually implacable mule ceased doing its impersonation of the immovable object to flee from the rising fires.

There was running.

There was screaming.

There was a desperate flight for the shelter of a nearby boulder.

And then there was light.

An intense wave of heat.

A sound so loud that it made no sense.

The only other fatality that day was Barry Bluejeans, the mercenary who had been charged to protect Gundren. He’d followed his employer out, trying to beg Gundren out of Julia’s hands. He hadn’t listened when Killian tried to warn him, and now his charred corpse was part of the ashes falling towards Phandalin.

Gundren was in the middle of a gigantic, perfect, black glass circle. Still radiating heat. Still making small, ‘pink, pink’ noises as it cooled.

The side of the boulder closest to the conflagration had melted like a candle too close to the fire. And speaking of fires, there were hundreds of them in the area around the black glass circle.

“So much for his boots,” said Taako.

“Great,” said Killian, mockingly. “Now all we have to do is keep everyone away from it until I can get some professional help.”

Angus, clinging to Lulu, said, “I don’t need any convincing, ma’am.”

“Taako! Taako  stay away from it,” bellowed Magnus.

The Elven wizard was already halfway towards the upstretched gauntlet on the carbonised corpse. “I’m just looking,” he protested. “Chill!”

Merle shouted, “Are you  _ crazy? _ Stay the fuck away from that thing!”

Taako reached for it.

“Papa, NO!” Angus screamed.

And knocked the remains out of it and put it into his pack. “You called me ‘Papa’...” he singsonged.

“What. The. Shit,” said Killian. “How can you resist the thrall?”

Taako leaned nonchalantly on his new umbrella; but carefully so he didn't slip. “I’m dumb as a sack of rocks, baby.” He sauntered back to the group. “Too stupid to get any juice.”

Only Angus’ incredulous look betrayed that blatant lie, but Killian wasn't looking at  _ him. _ “I have to take you back to base. The Director is going to need to meet you. And I need you to transport that anyway.”

“What base?” said Merle. “Who the hell is this HHHHHKKK outfit?” He couldn't understand the static that this Orc woman spoke, so he pronounced it as an indescribable hiss.

“I literally can't tell you,” she sighed. “You’ve heard me try. Just… come with me. You’ll be paid for your services and I’m certain the Director is going to want to hire you straight away…” the look on her face foretold of bad news. “We… don't usually let families on base.”

Taako clutched at Angus and Magnus clutched at Julia and Lulu.

“Don't you dare try to take me away from my baby,” Taako almost snarled.

“Pretty much the same deal,” said Magnus. “We’re a team, here.”

Killian sighed, “I am going to be in so much trouble for this…” and then she pointed at a bare patch of ground and touched her silver bracer. She did that twice. “There's four seats to a transport pod, and it's going to be alarming getting there. Just… remember that this is safe, and I have a vested interest in keeping you all happy. Okay? We cool?”

Cool as they could get, anyway.


	23. Chapter 23

When Lucretia heard of them from Killian she couldn't believe her ears. The names alone rocked her to the core. And when she learned that they had  _ families? _

She had left them to their own devices for ten years. Something had to have happened somewhere. They couldn't have been monks for a decade.

The shock was all in who had a family.

Taako had managed to adopt a human boy. Magnus had had his family in a more traditional way. In fact, the baby was busy crying about the sensory upset and being passed around from caregiver to caregiver like an extremely noisy and moist hot potato.

“Follow me,” she said. “After you've all been innoculated, I will be able to explain everything.” Or at least, everything they needed to hear.

The baby, barely three years old and already upset about her circumstances, whimpered, “Ouchies?”

“It won’t hurt,” Lucretia reassured her, “but it won’t be pleasant.”

They were unsteady on their feet, all the way to the elevator that lead to the voidfish chamber. Which was a jarring sight, given Taako’s natural agility. He may have been coping with it better than the others, but it was still like watching a cat trying to walk with stickytape on its feet.

Three of her friends were back. Two were still missing. The two she worried the most about. Those two could upset the entire apple cart and the orchard they grew in.

Lucretia held the door for Johann and told him, “I think a demonstration might well be in order.”

So much had changed. Too much, perhaps. They obviously didn’t recognise her, and for a moment, Lucretia wondered if it was because of Fisher’s spell or the lingering aftermath of her failed quest to retrieve the Animus Bell.

She had spent too much energy and done too much to attempt to turn back, now. Not after all she’d made. Not after all she’d done. Not after all she’d sacrificed.

She could do this. Especially now that she had some of her friends.

And though it was terribly wrong to think of her shipmates as assets she could use, she had to. It was the only way to do this. The only way to see through Lup’s last wish.

The only way to contain the horrors they had made.

Her grip tightened on the Bulwark Staff. It whispered to her about protecting them all. About protecting the entire world. It had always whispered that, echoing her own wish. But this was her monster and it whispered in vain. She had resisted its thrall.

She could give it up any time she wanted to.

But not now.

Not when she was so much closer than she had ever been before.

“Davenport?”

And there was the greatest sacrifice of them all. Her Captain. Their Captain. Greatly reduced to a hollow shell with so few words at his command. And he had made her coffee.

She lived on coffee these days. Coffee and rushed meals at the Bureau’s cafeteria. Would her friends recognise what she’d built here? How she’d made the very echo of the IPRE campus on this floating base far above Faerun below? Did they miss a second sun?

How had their lives been altered without so many of their memories?

She filled in some of the eternal paperwork while she waited. Would her countermeasures be enough? Would this hurt them, somehow?

No. There they came. Enlightened, but not harmed. The little boy was fussing over Taako. Concerned. He had to be nine if he was a day. And he was well-fed. As were Magnus, his wife, and child. Even Merle showed signs of an improved diet.

So why was  _ Taako _ of all people, showing every clear symptom of extended malnutrition?

He waved at her. “Hello, again Ms Fancy-robe.”

“Welcome, the six of you, to the Bureau of Balance…” She was winging it. She knew she was winging it. It was terrible and she was winging it. She couldn’t say,  _ Merle, you look like you killed your best friend, _ or,  _ Taako, what’s with the diet? _ Because that degree of familiarity was not one that they’d expect from an elderly human that dripped gravitas.

If she could somehow teleport her mother into this room, she would not recognise the Lucretia of today. She’d come so far from the withdrawn, whispering wallflower of yore. Just as she barely recognised her friends.

They made their introductions. Magnus’ wife was Julia, and their baby was named Lucinda. An echo of their forgotten memories? Had she missed a bit? And worse, Taako had taken to calling her ‘Lulu’.  _ That _ stung like hell.

The little boy was Angus McDonald. A human native to this dimensional cluster. He was a genius of sorts and had set his mind on being a detective. And he was damn good at it. She could see his dark, sharp eyes jinking from tell to tell to tell. And from the way Taako kept gripping him as if to be certain of his safety, Lucretia correctly guessed that this child had been adopted in an episode of luume’irma.

Angus would have no fiercer guardian, no more loyal a protector, and no more dedicated a nurturer than an Elf who had scooped him up during luume’irma.

Trying to separate them would be  _ fatal. _ Harming the boy would be worse than fatal. Separating Magnus from his family would likewise earn his wrath.

Of course they goofed about their job title. She couldn’t stop the twinge of remembrance reaching her face. She proposed a safer avenue of employ for Julia and Angus. And agreed that she would have to bend the rules for this party.

“We normally don’t allow families on the moon,” she said, “but our need for Reclaimers is so desperate that… I can allow a leniency on a case-by-case basis.” A shadow of her former self crept out to say, “Can I hold your baby for a moment?”

She had Magnus’ eyes, and Julia’s curls. Her pudgy baby fingers were just starting to become the nimble hands of a more grown child, and they traced the ornate stitching of Lucretia’s robe.

Barry had told her that shielding one plane would kill it. Barry was wrong.

_ I’ll protect you too, little one. I’ll protect all of you from the oncoming storm. _

Lucretia reluctantly gave her back to her parents with, “She’s beautiful.”

This was a mess. It was going to be a huge, ugly mess.

But she had to make it work.

For the greater good.


	24. Chapter 24

“Papa…” the word was coming easier to Angus’ lips, now. Especially since Taako was cleaning a mark off of Angus’ face with a hankie. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I’m not sending you off on a scouting mish with mud on your face, Angel.”

He could  _ feel _ Carey, Killian, and Boyland snorting into their sleeves behind him. “I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself. You know this,” he argued.

“Sure, but I’m an idiot,” said Taako. “I forget things. Like… how to not worry when you’re out there on your own.”

Angus grasped his adopted dad’s shoulders. “I  _ promise _ I’ll stay safe close to Team Sweet Flips, but you have to promise me something, too.”

“Yes, pumpkin?”

“Promise me you’ll eat a whole meal and do your best to keep it down?”

Taako got his  _ oh fuck _ face. “You… know about that…”

“World’s greatest detective, remember?”

A very Taako smirk. “See, I told you I was an idiot.”

“Papa…” this time his tone was warning.

Confronted by anyone else, Taako would hedge and babble and derail the conversation into a chain of goofs, but Angus could wring the truth out of him with a steady gaze. “It’s not on purpose, I swear. I’m trying, honey, I am. It’s just… when I feel too full… I keep seeing Glamour Springs again, and…” a quick swipe of his face. “I’ll try my hardest, darling.” And then he kissed Angus on his forehead. “Stay safe out there.”

“You know I will,” he said, and hurried into his seat before Taako could reel him in for more hugs. It was just an overnight trip to Rockport to seek out some buzz. Team Sweet Flips had him on as information gathering only, and one of the three would always be with him as a bodyguard. Or else.

Angus was fairly certain that if any harm came to him, Taako would tear down the whole moon.

“So…” said Carey, poking his arm in a friendly way. “What’s that story with your pop?”

Angus expected some gentle ribbing about Taako’s affectionate farewell. “What story do you mean, ma’am?”

“I heard you make him promise to eat a whole meal. Is there… something wrong with Taako?”

Oh. They were worried that a Reclaimer was sick somehow and that would fuck up a mission to retrieve another Grand Relic. “It’s… psychic damage, ma’am. Papa…” he could learn to say that to other people. Baby steps. “Taako used to run a cooking show? And his business partner pretty much poisoned a whole town out of jealousy, making him the patsy. He’s been food-phobic ever since. We’ve all been trying to help him get over it, but… It’s not always working so great.”

Boyland whistled backwards. “A food-phobic chef. That’s a hell of a thing…”

Killian said, “Taako… Taako. I remember that guy now. He put garlic in almost everything. Say, what if we get him a bunch of fresh garlic for him and--”

Angus had to interrupt. “Sorry, ma’am, but that won’t work. His last show was for thirty-clove garlic chicken. Just the smell of garlic sets him off. Sorry for interrupting. Even aioli will do it. He’s super-sensitive to any trace of it, now.”

“Fuck,” said Boyland.

“What’s working so far?”

Angus ran through them all. When he was still cautious about cooking at all, they’d get him to taste the meals in progress, but he’d graduated to cooking things, now. A process that involved removing every magic item and spell focus from his reach and an almost paranoid use of his low-sodium salt-shaker. Now that he was cooking - without even a hint of anything garlicky - he was eating less than ever. Which prompted his family to feed him bites and samples with the words, “You have to try this.”

Angus was the only one who could get away with Dove Spoons, and Taako would only indulge Lulu feeding him when he was in a good mood.

Angus didn’t tell them that Taako wouldn’t meditate on the moon without someone he trusted watching over him. And even then, he could only sleep soundly with Angus as a teddy bear. Angus didn’t say a word about the night terrors or how he had figured out that leaning on his adopted parent managed to bring him back into the present. And he certainly didn’t say a thing about the five senses countdown to help Taako ground himself in reality.

Carey reached across the space between them. Putting her hand on his shoulder. “Kids aren’t responsible for fixing their parents, okay? You’re doing everything you can and nobody expects you to have a miracle cure.”

Tears prickled his eyes. “Papa says that too. I still wish I could--” he couldn’t finish the thought. Cure his dad? Find a solution that would work? Get him on a clear and certain path to recovery? He’d read every book he could find on psychology and healing a broken mind. And the more he listened to Taako when he was in a rambling mood, the more he suspected that something else inside his Papa’s noggin was broken.

Something huge and important and as invisible as the sky. Lost from him, and hurting him with its absence. He was nearly at the shape of it, some days, but the missing piece of the Taako puzzle kept sliding out of his grasp.

But that was not a problem for today. Today, he was helping Team Sweet Flips on an investigatory mission with regards to a Relic the Bureau knew as the Oculus. Thus, he paid attention to the briefing Killian gave them and the instructions they had to follow. The relics signature had been detected in the area, and they couldn’t mention its name, the Bureau’s name, or what it did. They were just hunting down a special, magical object.

Angus did his best to stick to the plan. But as a famous strategist once said,  _ no plan survives first contact with the enemy. _ Angus was recognised by the Rockport City Watch, and with Carey in his company, he got himself embroiled in the case of the Rockport Slayer. Someone targeting wealthy travellers on the Rockport Express and killing them for their riches.

And they were doing this despite the excessive precautions that the Rockport Limited were taking to protect their clients’ valuables.

Angus posited that it had to be an inside job and narrowed it down to a few employees. And due to this brilliance, he and Carey were riding the Rockport Express to Neverwinter in the morning.

Whoops.

Killian and Boyland were peeved at the news, but they figured that one less murderer in the world was an important thing to accomplish. Besides, they had already found the Oculus and a Reclaimer had secured it. He, too, would be riding the Rockport Limited owing to weather conditions being unfavourable for a return trip to the moon.

Angus acquired a silverware set from the McDonald estate and used the Grandfather-in-Neverwinter story as an excuse. Carey was easy to explain as a bodyguard/companion/Nanny. And besides, he planned to have some fun playing with his Book of Interception. Even if it never came in handy, it was good for camouflage. Nobody questioned a good boy sitting quietly with a book.

Until ‘Leeman Kestler’ turned up with his two ‘brothers’, and Angus discovered that the original Leeman was dead and Angus’ dad had come to Reclaim the Relic.

Oh crap.

He was in trouble now.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short one today. Really long one tomorrow.

After the murder was solved; after it was all over, Killian and Boyland turned up two hours late on rental horses from Star Bucks. Laden with charms to make them travel faster. Therefore they had done the best they could to get to Neverwinter as soon as they could arrange it.

“Thank the gods you’re both safe,” Killian sighed. “I heard word on the way in about the train… vanishing? What happened?”

Taako seemingly appeared out of nowhere, but arranged it so he could surprise her from behind. “More like thank Taako they’re both safe. I let you have the care and protection of my baby boy, what happened?”

“Dad,” Angus said in severely exasperated tones. “We’ve been through this. It’s not on them.”

“Yes the fuck it is,” insisted Taako, he put the tray of food he was carrying down and selected a small bowl to pick from. It was a child’s meal, but he was eating it.

Killian knew better to comment on that. Taako was keeping his promise to Angus. “Yeah. It is. We could have tried to convince the authorities that your current… case… was more important or even more lucrative.”

“They know me too well, ma’am. They wouldn’t accept that argument. The instant they had my interest it was a done deal.”

“We should have kept you away from the authorities,” argued Boyland.

“Impossible, sir. I’d have to talk to authorities to get the information I need. It was a no-win situation, and nobody’s fault.”

Taako had barely eaten a third of his meal before he slowed. “I still don’t like that you were on a danger train, honey.”

“I didn’t know it was _your_ danger train, Dad. Not until you turned up. And we had Carey for backup, too.”

_“And_ that nasty little crossbow,” Taako noted. “Interesting that they let you sneak that on board.”

“They authorised it, sir.” Angus brought out the paperwork. “I’m like a… secret marshal. Or I was. I have to hand this back when we’re done.”

“They trusted a _child_ with tracking down a _killer,_ and they trusted the same child with a deadly _weapon.”_ Taako picked some choice morsels out of his remaining meal. “You’re pretty accurate with that thing, maybe you should forget to return it.”

That was not the reaction Killian expected. “What happened to your sweet baby Angel not deserving to be in any danger?”

Taako took a deep breath. “I hate it, but I’m not going to be around to be his meat shield at all times. My baby needs to be able to protect himself.” The unspoken, _Since you couldn’t protect him,_ lay lurking between them. “So… let’s try to get him one of those things when he inevitably comes over with honesty, and teach him everything we can.”

Angus brightened considerably. “Does that mean magic lessons, Papa?”

“Magic lessons, cooking lessons, survival lessons,” Taako looked pointedly at Carey and then Killian. “Rogue lessons, Fighter lessons… the works, baby.” One last, delicate forkful, and Taako started a cold sweat.

One bite too many. He was thinking about Glamour Springs. Killian had to think of a pretty quick distraction, “That silverware set come from anywhere special?”

“My estate,” said Angus. “Once I explained that I needed it for bait, they were quick to hand it over.”

_“You were playing bait?”_ Taako shrieked, psychosomatic nausea forgotten. “And I thought you were a genius. Always. _Always._ Let someone _else_ be the bait.”

On the plus side, that worked. On the minus side, Angus was _so_ grounded. He’d be lucky if he ever went on another mission again. Killian tried to communicate, _Sorry, kiddo,_ with her eyes, but only received a venomous glare from the boy in return.

Angus sighed. “I guess this means I don’t get to be your magic boy…”

“Fuck that noise,” said Taako. “Your lessons start _now._ If my kid’s going to be throwing himself in harm’s way, he’s gonna learn how to harm it _back._ You. Me. Shopping spree. Now.” Taako scooped Angus up in his arms and stormed off, ranting the entire way.

Killian sat down and filched the remains of Taako’s meal. “That… actually went better than expected.”


	26. Chapter 26

Lulu, much like the dogs that weren’t allowed on the moon, was inclined to just run right off the darn thing. Julia put a firm leash on her daughter and turned her smithing skills to wrought iron fences that crawled across every sheer drop on the base. She did good work, and fast work with it. But not as fast as the manufactories’ automatic machines.

As the only baby on the moon, and the only girl child, she got all the attention she could want. Johann played her music. Carey and Killian taught her the same tumbling and leverage tricks they were teaching Angus. And there wasn’t a living soul on the moon who wouldn’t want to hold her for a handful of minutes.

Even Davenport, usually found in Madame Director’s aura, was content to hold her and listen to her pretend to read.

Angus was trying to teach her to read, but it was slow going. She could sing the alphabet song and write her name, but she didn’t seem much interested in putting the words together. She’d much rather make up stories based on the pictures, or listen to others read to her.

That was how Angus learned of another fucked-up normal. He had learned to read before he was three, and remembered wanting to be able to do so as quickly as possible. Lulu, a far more normal child, didn’t mind taking her time.

_ Her _ fucked-up normal would be growing up on the moon. Spending nearly every day with the world so far below her that you couldn’t even see the people without a telescope. Learning everything she could from the absolute best that Faerun had to offer.

Smart or dull, she would be well-educated.

But education wasn’t happening today. Today, Julia was taking the children and Killian down to Goldcliff. Mostly to be the backup to the boys, in case they got into trouble. While they were there and waiting for that to happen, there was an excuse to shop and get a few things that just weren’t available in Fantasy Costco.

Angus found a few books on the new field of Headology, and skimmed through them for advice on how to help his Papa overcome his fear of food. They were all by someone named Weatherwax, who had a very straightforward attitude to problem solving. He would have to spend some days just absorbing Weatherwax’s philosophy before attempting to apply it to his Papa.

And grabbing a few mysterious and strange cooking ingredients might have helped too.

Julia had been buying things for Lulu, and the shopping bags almost burdened her. “You getting anything for yourself?”

“I found some puzzle books earlier,” he said, “but I’d much rather learn things.”

She smiled. “You are a weird kid. They’re going to be running the races, soon. Killian says the black pillars are the safest places to be.”

Given that there was a Grand Relic in play, that was a wise choice.

They had a little suite with a magic window that followed the race, and privacy enough not to disturb anyone with accidental static.

“I don’t get it,” said Killian. “The racers wear masks. How will we know which idiots we’re supposed to save when it gets dodgy?”

The horn went off and the racers took off from their crates. Some blew up on leaving the starting line. But there, on a ram-themed racing cart, were three unique figures. One wearing a bear mask.

“That’s them,” said Julia. “There’s my i’morko.”

And Taako’s hat was like a blaring sign. He was manning a harpoon gun and wearing a mongoose mask. Angus smiled because he knew  _ why _ Taako chose the mongoose.

_ To see the true nature of a man, give him a mask. _

The mongoose was small and seemingly ineffective, but it was also one of the most successful hunters in the world, coming up there with the common housecat. Not the most threatening silhouette, but unexpectedly deadly. And, a trait he knew Taako dearly wanted, immune to venom.

He remembered shrieking when Taako leaped, unprotected, from the ram wagon. And cheering when he was saved by an unauthorised racer. Angus shrieked again when that racer turned out to be the Bugbear Klarg. That was a story that still gave Angus the horrors, for all that Taako played it up for comedy.

The fact that a Bugbear could randomly be civil and equally as randomly be hostile was one that Angus didn’t much cotton on to. And the fact that fantasy lasers kept unauthorised racers out of the game was a fact Angus didn’t much like either. That was his Papa out there!

But his Papa knew how to use a mechanic. The fantasy lasers were shooting at Klarg? Fine. Get Klarg to ride the shark wagon and thereby incapacitate it. Meanwhile, Papa had the motorcycle and a phantom steed carrying Merle. The one they had to beat was the only one left in the game.

Angus saw it in a view-all. Taako used the wand of switcheroo to win the race. And immediately pulled a goof about how weasels sounded. Did Papa know Angus was watching?

And then it all went to shit.

The Raven, the one who currently had the Gaia Sash, lost any semblance of control, and brought the storm. Papa, Magnus, Merle, and the Halfling they were riding with careened into the storm.

“Daddy!” Lulu cried. “Daddy, come back!”

Angus held on to her. “It’s going to be okay,” he said, praying that fate would see to it that it was. Watching the tornado of vines and clouds swirl. Interspersed with flashes of light.

Three figures fell out, spinning towards the central lake of Goldcliff, caught in safety bubbles by their harnesses.

Angus didn’t care to watch what happened next. He was already running for the lake. Taako had shed his harness. He knew that. So who were the three in the bubbles? One of them had to know the fate of his Papa. Tears blurred his vision as he ran. If people called after him, he didn’t hear. He just had to know what happened to Taako.

The only being alive who had actively cared about Angus since his parents had died.

Sure, they’d only been together as a little family for four years, headed for five; but that didn’t matter now. What mattered was getting to the party and finding out if Papa was okay.

He  _ needed _ Papa to be okay.

Desperately.

His legs were burning and his feet were numb from the running by the time he made it to the central lake. He never saw the flower petals, or the light, or anything. He wasn’t even aware that he was crying out for his Papa until the magnificent Elf wizard had him in his arms.

“Hey. Hey. It’s okay, sweet pea. I got’cha. Papa’s got’cha.”

Merle was the one to secure the sash and keep it safely away from the rest of the world. 

Angus didn’t much care. He just wanted to hang on tight to his Papa and never let go. He just wanted to hear Taako’s soft and soothing purr and feel the warmth of his Papa close to him and never, ever,  _ ever _ have to worry about him again.

Angus didn’t let go. He even insisted on holding Taako’s hand all the way back up to the moon. Not letting go, even for the debriefing and destruction of the Grand Relic. Clinging as tight as he could, as hard as he could, for as long as he could.

All the way to the little flat where Taako cooked up a bunch of comfort foods and held Angus on his lap and let him cry.

It was only there, as he was finally winding down, that he confessed. “I don’t wanna lose any more parents.”

Papa ran his fingers through Angus’ hair and rocked him gently. “Even ones that have skinned a bear and tried to chew its tongue for you?”

Funny how long ago that seemed. “Even those weirdos,” he agreed. There was a smile on his lips, now. And the washed-out, floppy feeling that comes from a solid cry.

“You have my word, Angel. I’m trying my hardest not to beef it, out there. Taako aims to be around for a long, long time.”

Angus kept not letting go. “Thanks, Papa,” he sighed.

They slept in the same bed, that night. There was no question of it being any other way. The only difference from the other times was that Taako was Angus’ teddy bear.


	27. Chapter 27

Of fucking course one of those red-robed idiots would create the Philosopher’s Stone. Of course they would. Because that was the irresistible goal of the school of Transmutation. And  _ of course _ some idiot thought that they could use it to create wonders because that was how the thrall worked and of  _ course _ they lost control and things went bad.

Taako was mostly pissed because this particular chain of wet farts had happened during the first proper Candlenights he could throw for his sweet baby Angel.

He’d been working on it for months, and not just the presents. He laid it all on. Their little flat was dripping with Candlenights Cheer. And the feast he put on was enough to feed an army. It was too huge for their flat, and it spilled out into the Bureau’s office party. And of course he was on his feet and making sure everyone at least had a macaroon.

And it was entirely worth it because his little boy was the king of the hill of presents that everyone managed to find for him.

Lulu had her own hill of presents and was a little overwhelmed. Julia was calming her with some warm eggnog and some Candlenights songs.

Geez. That kid was  _ five _ now. Her own little person and not totally a baby any more. Though it was difficult for Taako to fit that phrase to anyone under the age of twenty. But then, elven childhoods were long and complicated. His had been long and brutal.

Taako had had enough time to ask his boy, “Having a good candlenights, pumpkin?”

And then it all went to shit because some shady nerd with his own floating science base had been fooling around with the Philosopher’s Stone.

_ If I ever get my hands on the asshole who made that thing, I am going to kick his fucking ass, _ Taako vowed.

And now he was in some kind of fantasy space suit and making his farewells to his son. Who was understandably and unfairly upset about watching his Papa go risk his life again.

“Now sweetie,” he soothed. “Remember what to do if anything bad happens?”

That earned him an eye roll. “Grab the gold, deny everything, and head for the hills?”

Julia snorted in amusement.

Taako grinned. “That, and you have like, six hundred parents up here. You’re not going to be alone.” He kissed his baby’s brow. “We have Team Sweet Flips backing us up, and we’re bad-asses. We’re going to be fine. You’re going to be better than fine.” And, because he couldn’t help it, he levelled a glare at Lucretia. “See to it.”

Lulu was less upset about it all. Watching her daddy go off to risk his life was her fucked-up normal. Her daddy had always come back from these things.

She didn’t understand that this was a really bad one. Angus did.

And since he was determined to help, he was on the stones of farspeech for information and intelligence. And -grimly- so that he would be the first to know. Anything.

_ I gave my baby anxiety… _ and that thought hurt him in his soul.

So he spent his entire journey through the pink, crystallised labs downplaying the danger he was in. Reassuring his son that it was okay and his Papa had this.

Even to meeting a crystal golem.

“Hail and well met. My name’s Taako and you look like you’re made of salt.”

The thing was massively overpowered, because  _ of course _ nothing about his job could be easy. And later, when things were getting hairy and the golem was getting nasty, and the fucking nerd in the goddamn thrall of that  _ fucking _ relic had pulled the last straw, Taako got furious. And the nearest target was the damn crystal golem.

“Hey, thug! What’s your name? I’m about to tentacle your dick!”

Sure, he was heavy-handed. He was furious. Events beyond his control had made his baby cry and Taako couldn’t get back up there to comfort his fucking son until the whole Relic debacle was a done deal. So he used all of his heaviest hits. And he was going to use some more when he caught up to that fucking nerd Lucas.

How  _ dare _ he ruin his sweet baby Angel’s Candlenights?

It wasn’t until later that he realised that things were more fucked up than they could have possibly ever been.

“Taako,” said the strikingly handsome man in the sapphire mirror. “You’ve died eight times.”

What? He attempted to enumerate the number of times his hit points had been zero, and found a close match. “That tracks.”

“Magnus Burnsides,” the man in the mirror announced, “You’ve died nineteen times.”   


“That doesn’t sound right,” Maggie protested. “I  _ think _ I’d remember…”

“Nineteen times, and you haven’t visited the Astral Plane once.”

While they were all debating all of this, Taako found himself contemplating those chiselled features. Handsome fellow, actually. Nice build, nice face, nice voice. And it had been such a long time since he’d had the pleasure of adult company.

_ Gods, am I thirsty over Death? _

It was plausible.

On the other hand, if he could successfully seduce the Grim Reaper, he might have a chance of keeping his promise to his sweet baby boy.

Except it all got ruined by Kravitz going all skeletor on him.

“You know, if you wanted to lure me in there, you should’ve stayed handsome, my fella.”

* * *

 

Angus woke to the familiar coo of, “There’s my baby boy…”

Papa was still alive. Angus surrendered to being picked up and gave his Papa the hardest hug he could manage. “I was so worried about you.”

“It’s all right, boychick.” Papa held him tight too. “But it’s all square. We did Death a solid, so he’s going to ignore those bounties on us. We won’t need to see him again.” Papa was still battle damaged. “Pity,” Papa sighed. “He was kind’a cute.”

Angus boggled at him. He knew his Papa was gay, but… “Really? Flirting with Death?”

Papa smiled and used one hand to remove the helmet so he could kiss Angus’ cheek. “Listen. If I held a grudge against everyone who tried to kill me, I’d hate the entire damn world. Except for you. A-a-and it’s been a long time since I’ve had… youknow… an intimate relationship.”

Oh. Right. Single parents weren’t exactly lucky in the lists of love. They tended to attract the wrong sort of people. In context, merely trying to kill him was one of the  _ nicer _ options.

“Maybe I could find you someone,” Angus offered. “I am the world’s greatest detective.”

Papa didn’t put him down or let him go. “Nope. Don’t you put me in the Parent Trap with some rando. Especially if there’s a surprise twin in the picture. Nuh-uh. I fucking hate that trope. No-o-o-o secret twins for Taako.”

Angus had to smile, even as Papa carried him all the way back to their flat.

“Sorry I got your Candlenights ruined, pumpkin,” Papa soothed as they made their way up to their home.

“You’re still here,” Angus sighed. “That’s enough for me.”

Into the flat, where a plethora of Candlenights fairy lights softly glowed and a small feast of leftovers lurked under the food covers. Where some presents remained wrapped. And where Magnus and Merle had evidently followed them.

All four sat on the bed, joined by Julia from across the hall, to hear the last words of Maureen Miller.

_ I saw all of existence, all at once. I saw a dark storm, a living hunger, eating it from within. But I saw a brilliant light heralded by seven birds flying tirelessly from the storm. I saw seven birds: _ _   
_ _ The Twins, The Lover, The Protector, The Lonely Journal Keeper, The Peacemaker, and The Wordless One. _

Five mouths dared not speak. Five sets of eyes looked for meaning in another’s. Five minds couldn’t understand what it meant.

_ The Twins, The Lover, The Protector, The Lonely Journal Keeper, The Peacemaker, and The Wordless One. _

It listed those titles seven times, each time growing fainter and fainter, until the light and the memory core died.

There was rum in the warm eggnog, that night. Papa wrapped himself around Angus, and Angus held tight to Papa. Magnus and Julia had each other to cling to, and a small and wriggly daughter with more elbows and knees when she slept. Nobody knew who or what Merle had and nobody dared to ask.

What was undeniable was that nobody who heard that was sleeping alone.

It took Angus a while to get heavy-eyed again. The Red Robe had mentioned the hunger of all mankind. Was that related to the living hunger Maureen had talked about?

Who or what were the seven birds?

Did they have to find them?

Papa snuggled closer to Angus and started purring in his ear. Soft and low and gentle. Rising and falling like the tide. And like the tide, impossible to resist.

Angus tried, but Papa’s purr was relentless. And eventually, Angus rolled a one.


	28. Chapter 28

Taako had made a promise. And now that was broken. He had made a simple promise to keep - just not die any more times than normal, and Kravitz would be a happy Reaper.

But that promise was broken.

Three more deaths. Taako, Magnus, and Merle. And within less than a second, they were alive again.

And in an hour, the same three were dead once more. And back again.

And worse, he could not reach where they were dying. So he went to where he was guaranteed to return.

Death could go almost anywhere it liked.

And in this case, Death visited a comfortable little flat on a secret base on the artificial moon. It had a view of the base’s hanging gardens, but that wasn’t what focussed his attention. The kitchen was tiny, but it was still a chef’s dream. Herbs and spices from the farthest reaches of Faerun. A well-stocked pantry and fantasy fridge.

And everywhere, portraits of a human child.

Kravitz found a scrapbook in Taako’s room. Along with an inexplicable bearskin. Inside were newspaper clippings, some with portraits of the same child. And some of those portraits had a familiar Elf in the background.

There was only one way that a non-elven child got an elven parent figure. This kid must have been scooped up during an episode of Luume’irma. Which might have been tricky for Kravitz if he had the duty of taking the child away from the Dad.

A small gasp alerted him to the presence of someone else in the room. Kravitz turned to see that very same small boy turn and flee.

And in a move he would regret for some time, Kravitz dropped everything and gave chase. “Wait! I’m only investigatin--”

And then a hammer interrupted his consciousness via an intersection with his head. Kravitz’s next spate of awareness was being propped up against a corner of the room, with ropes around all of his arms, ropes tying his ankles underneath him, and something sticky on his forehead.

It wasn’t blood because he wasn’t alive enough to breathe.

“Did you do that with the Dwarf near Phandalin?” a young voice asked.

“Mama saved the world,” cheered an even younger voice. “Take that, badguy!” Something flew at him and, judging by the squeaky noise it made as it hit the wall, it was a toy hammer.

“Stay away from him Lulu.”

Kravitz turned to find a trio. The small boy he knew from the news clippings. Angus McDonald. Faerun’s greatest and youngest detective. There was a large woman who must have wielded the original hammer, and was in fact wielding it again, and a small girl with a play hammer trying to be like her mom.

Angus readied a wand and grabbed a kitchen knife with his other hand.  _ He _ was taking Kravitz’s presence seriously.

“Hail and well met?” Kravitz attempted.

The woman juggled her hammer meaningfully. “You’re here without authorisation, and you match the description of the Reaper from Lucas’ lab.”

“I’m not here to take anyone,” he said. “Not yet.” Kravitz tried to shift his weight and discovered that a flap of paper was attached to the middle of his forehead. Most likely Hold Undead, it would prevent him from doing a great deal of his usual Reaper tricks. “I’m only here to find out what the fock’s goin’ on.”

The little girl threw the toy hammer and got chided by her Mom with, “Lulu! No!” The kids aim was not improving.

“You said my Papa died eight times,” said Angus. He had a good and steady aim with his wand, and he looked ready to use it.

“And I was willin’ to strike that from our records,” he said. “Keep in mind that I don’t mean this t’ sound bad, but… ‘e’s manage to die four more times.”

_ “Four?” _

That subtle ping of another three deaths followed by another three lives. “Five. Just now. I got no idea what’s ‘appening and no way of reachin’ him. So I came here to… to look for signs of dark magics.”

The wand tip glowed. “You won’t find any! My Papa would never use dark magic! Don’t you know what they  _ use _ for it?”

“Elf body parts, amongst other things. Yes. I was… I was not expecting  _ those. _ Obviously. Listen. I have no idea why these deaths are happening, but I can  _ feel _ them. I can’t get to him, but I know he’s going to be back here, so…” he sighed. “I don’t even know.”

The woman had listened to every word. “So you came here to look for answers.”

“Yes,” said Kravitz. “There has to be a reason why they’re dyin’ on the hour.”

“Every hour?” said Angus. “I’ve read a lot about all kinds of magic, but I don’t think anything fits…”

“It has to be the relic,” said the woman. “The Temporal Chalice.”

Kravitz got it. “Those relics have caused more trouble than anything else in the Prime Physical Plane. If they’re tangled up with one of those…” Fear stabbed at him, and he didn’t know why. He should be overjoyed to see the end of a transgressor like Taako.

Anyone who provoked the Raven Queen’s wrath deserved their time in the Eternal Stockade.

That was a truth as deep as the sea of souls and as long as his existence. Longer, even, than that.

Except…

Kravitz didn’t  _ want _ to see Taako and those other two goofballs in the Eternal Stockade. As grim and sour souls hating him through the gaps left in their restraints. Clinging to their mortal forms as they clung desperately to every shred of their former existence. Just like they had cheated death to cling to life in order to commit their crimes. Wasting away in slow torment until they forgot everything about who they had been and finally slipped into the Sea of Souls where they would immediately dissolve.

These were the first transgressors of his Queen’s order that he felt didn’t deserve it. It was almost as if they somehow  _ accidentally _ managed to die five more times.

“If I could return to the Astral Plane,” he began.

And suddenly Angus was there with a knife at Kravitz’s throat. “Don’t even think about trying to trick us.”

If this body was killed, Her Majesty would not be pleased. It would decrease any further payment by some significant amount. Perhaps even put him in debt for the first time in hundreds of years. Not to mention it being a significant inconvenience. Kravitz leaned a little away from the knife. “Awright. No tricks.”

This was going to be a long-ass visit.


	29. Chapter 29

After years of sharing their lives, Magnus could tell when Taako was stressed out of his gourd. It was all in the hair. He would braid it up for missions, so tight that one could bounce coppers off of it, and it took a practiced eye to see those golden locks frizz up with tension.

If Taako let his hair down right now? It would go up into a luxurious halo of tense golden curls.

This adventure had not been kind to any of them. Suffering their own deaths via stupidity several times had done nothing for the ego, the stamina, or their paranoia.

Magnus still felt like he could blink, and they’d all be back at square one, staring into Refuge and listening to Roswell ask them to identify themselves. It was a mystery to him how Taako still had the energy to be nervous.

Merle was just about asleep on his feet. Being dead so often had taken it out of him.

And then there was the worrying sensation of  _ familiarity _ that came with dying.

Was re-incarnation a thing? He dared not ask now. He probably wouldn’t ask for years.

They gave a brief and sketchy report to Madame Director Lucretia, and watched the orb incinerate the cup.

Good riddance to it.

Magnus wound up supporting Taako on the way to his little flat. He, too, couldn’t wait to get home to his wife and kid. But his feet felt like lead and his muscles felt like swamp slime. He wanted nothing more than a hot meal and the pleasure of snuggling his two ladies close and safe.

And their doors were both open.

“MY BABY!”

It was a battle to rush in ahead of Taako, who was amazingly quick for a guy in four-inch heels. Too quick for Magnus, who must have rolled a two in Initiative for a change. He thundered behind the slight Elf, axe drawn and ready for anything.

Taako scrambled into his flat, shrieking, “Where’s my baby? Where’s my  _ baby?” _ and then, just as he was out of sight, the most ominous sound of all.

Silence.

When Magnus rushed in, he found what could only be described as a Scene.

There was a stranger tied up in a corner of Taako’s living room. A little to the left of that, the Elf himself, wrapped tightly around Angus and sobbing quietly. Propping up the kitchen counter was Julia, who had evidently just scooped Lulu out of the way.

Someone had made salmon cakes, judging by the lingering aroma.

Taako mustn’t have seen a thing, having tunnel vision for his kid.

Who was only the second most confused person in the room.

Angus, who was more or less used to this sort of thing by now, was gently petting one of Taako’s pinned-back ears and murmuring, “I’m okay, Papa. It’s okay, now.”

The most confused person in the room was Kravitz. Tied up like a candlenights gift and wearing a Hold Undead charm on his forehead. As well as the distinctive imprint of Julia’s throwing hammer.

“This has to be a story,” said Magnus.

Which was the cue for Taako and Angus to tell theirs simultaneously. Talking over each other in a confusion of emotion.

“--that fucking cup--”

“--said you died--”

“--so sorry, baby--”

“--wanted to go back--”

“--could have saved--”

“--didn’t dare let--”

“What?”

“What?”

Kravitz cleared his throat. “Maybe we could take turns?” he suggested. “Take some deep breaths? Maybe ‘ave a cuppa tea?”

_ Now _ Taako noticed the stranger in the room. “I didn’t know it was my birthday. You gift-wrapped me a handsome dish.”

“He’s the Reaper, Papa. His job’s to take you  _ away!” _

Taako kissed his forehead. “His job’s to keep the balance of life and death, honey. And the three of us? And a whole town? They… broke… those laws.”

“I’m not even sure it’s a break,” said Kravitz. “All I know is that you boys ‘ave added quite a bit to your death counts and I have no information on why.”

Taako took a deep breath. “That one’s on me.”

* * *

 

That was then.

This was now. Explanations were given. Kravitz had had to swear that he was not about to Reap Taako or his team without adequate warning. And most definitely a fight.

And the most important thing was that Taako had just had a date.

There was clay on his cheek and he had a new vase - a Kravitz original. And he had the frequency of a guy who was actually very sweet for all that he took his job super seriously. The only down side of the day was the fact that the Umbrastaff tried to kill the Reaper.

Next time, he’d leave it at home.

Ha. Listen to him. Next time.

He was literally flirting with Death.

More than a little tipsy, he made it home to his boy. Triumphant grin joining the clay on his face. Angus was waiting up for him. Or had tried to. The newest Caleb Cleveland novel  was in danger of tipping out of his hands.

Taako tip-toed over and put a mark in the book, sliding it out from Angus’ grasp like a thief.

Dark eyes opened. “Hi Papa. Did it go well?”

“Didn’t wanna wake you, pumpkin,” Taako murmured. “It’s all good. Turns out we did Istus a solid, and that’s enough to take us off the hook.”

Ango got sly. “And…?” he prompted.

“And the Reaper is cute, and I have his frequency,” Taako found himself singsonging. “And we’re doing something again in a couple’a nights… I like him.”

Now his Angel’s sleepy face had a wide grin. “You could have him over for a dinner. He’s already met the family.”

“And had a near miss with the shovel talk, so he already knows what he’s in for,” Taako joked, scooping his baby off the couch. Pressing him close. How the hell that cup expected him to surrender this child to a different fate was beyond him. Angus forgave him that selfishness because he loved his Papa. But Taako couldn’t help thinking that he’d stolen this baby twice in one lifetime.

“Papa… no regrets, remember?”

Taako sighed. Of course his genius baby Angel could see right through him. “Papa’s messed up, kiddo. I always want what’s best for you and--” He hadn’t said this part before. “It showed me how happy you’d be with your birth parents. How happy you would have been. It… it kind’a stuck with me.”

His baby boy drowsed a little. He had been up most of the night and a growing boy needed his rest. “Happier than I am now?”

That jolted his self-pity party more than anything else he’d been working on. “Y’know what? I don’t think there was much of a difference. Though you did manage to avoid a hell of a load of Elf snot.”

“That stuff’s worth a fortune in the right market,” Angus teased.

“Gotta keep you in those Calvin Carbox novels somehow,” Taako teased right back.

Angus chuckled. “I got you a little something for a dinner date, sir. I was going to save it for Midsummer, but… I thought it might be better to give it now.”

Taako tucked him in. “You are way too good to me, Angel.”

Angus smiled. “Just wait ‘till you see it, Papa.”

“You get some sweet dreams in, baby.” Taako kissed him goodnight and left the star lights on. Just like his adopted Papa, Angus suffered from night terrors and a fear of the dark. The lights helped him come back to reality, and Taako was always ready to come running at the slightest peep.

And since Angus had the same reflex, the interesting nights were the ones in which they both ran for each other and neither of them were fully in reality.

Taako flung his heels under the chair that doubled as part of his wardrobe and found the gift on his bedside table. Right where he was guaranteed to find it.

It was a small jewelry box, and a little card that read,  _ Happy I Love You Day. _

And inside it was a ring of Detect Poison. The little gemstone would glow if something he handled was poison.

Hands down. No contest. Taako had the world’s best kid.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short one today. Long-ass one tomorrow

Kravitz learned a few things over the space of several dates.

Things like: Taako dispels his nervous energy in baking.

Their first dinner date was awash in pastry. Fragrant pies, delicious danishes, artisanal cakes, muffins, and confectionary galore. And a veritable mountain of macaroons.

“If I weren’t already dead, I’d think you were trying to kill me with food,” he laughed.

“Pick your faves, homie,” said Taako, still wearing an apron that said, _Moon Pie Man._ “There’s tons of folks up here who’ll help us eat it.” He was adding a pink sugar crystal to the buttercream icing on a cake that looked like it was being overtaken by the pink crystals of Lucas’ lab.

Kravitz considered the feast dominating every spare surface in this tiny home. It all looked and smelled magnificent. His mortal form didn’t need food, but he was starting to _want_ some.

“I’ve been dead for a long time,” he said. “I don’t remember if I _have_ a favourite.”

Taako’s eyes lit right up. “Oh, I can help you find one. You’re in with possibly the best chef in Faerun.” He gave the lazy susan that the cake was on a spin and contemplated it. “Yeah. That’s good.”

Was that a set of black fondant tentacles on the non-crystalline side of the cake? “You…” he sputtered. “You are something else, Taako.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he grinned. “Now. Which of the five prime flavours should I introduce first?”

“Balanced meals, Papa,” said the boy, seemingly coming out of nowhere. He had been hidden by the counter and the piles of food weighing it down. “Hello, Mr Kravitz, sir.”

And other things like: Angus McDonald is almost obsessively polite.

“Good eventide, young Master,” Kravitz bowed. “I’m rather pleased to find our second meeting more fortuitous than the first.” _His_ formallity was greeted with laughter from both mortals.

Taako was putting together… miniature meals. Plating samples of everything on smaller plates. Saucers, actually, since bread plates had grown since the last time Kravitz had seen any. Since neither he nor Kravitz could make up their minds, he was going to sample every possible meal there was.

Things like: Taako was in recovery from a foodphobic eating disorder caused by an ex-partner’s poisoning of an entire town.

“Show him how to eat it, Papa. The right fork and everything,” Angus urged. “I’ll do it to.”

They told stories as they urged samples onto Kravitz, and shared a meal. How Taako had found Angus during luume’irma and hadn’t really let go since. How Angus had needed his help to see his own ‘fucked-up normal’ and thus prevent his own household staff from murdering him. How Angus had inspired a true-to-life Caleb Cleveland novel in _Caleb Cleveland and the Sinister Chef._

Taako couldn’t read the crime scene chapter. It brought back too many painful regrets.

Kravitz shared his own past - what he remembered of it - too. How he had been a bard when he was alive, and how he had dreamed of being a conductor once. He skipped the grizzly and tragic details of his own demise, no matter how Angus pestered him.

And he had… fun.

He enjoyed his time with them in the Prime Material Plane. The food was top notch. The company beyond compare. And for the first time in thousands of years, he didn’t think about the future or worry about what might happen.

Which was why the Hunger managed to surprise him the way it did. Dragging him under the sea of souls before he could think to react. And why, by the time he did react, it was almost too late.

He was dimly aware of other Reapers in the hungry mire. Some angry. Some terrified. Some… surrendering.

Kravitz thought of Taako and his boy and the intense feelings he was developing for the two of them. Of his idle dreams concerning hopeful tomorrows. Of a tiny kitchen in a tiny flat and the amazing chef who made magic there, without using magic at all. Of the happy times he had shared with this little family in their little home. And how it felt so much bigger on the inside…

Kravitz, alone amongst the Reapers, had something and someone outside himself to fight for. The love in his spirit could not be swayed by the siren song of the Hunger.

Struggling, inch by painful inch, Kravitz began to rise.

He had someone worth going back for.

He lost track of time, fighting his way up from the depths as they kept trying to drag him down. He wouldn’t have it. He wouldn’t succumb.


	31. Chapter 31

“I got a fuckin’ idea for ya,” Taako said, and cast Magic Jar. His body fell down. His spirit remained free do do as he whist, tied to his body by the spectral jar in his inert hands.

In one direction, Edward inhabiting the body of Magnus. In the other, Magnus, floating slowly towards a rift between planes that Taako recognised too well.

That musclebound doof was trying to swim away from it.

Taako flew after him, arms outstretched, and rolled a natural twenty to save his friend. Successfully pulling Magnus’ soul away from the rift.

It was like fighting a riptide. It could be done, but it was strenuous work. A literal fight against death.

And there was something wrong with the Astral Plane. The rippling, glowing sea of souls was an inky dark, and ominously churning.

A hand broke the surface. Another hand. An arm. A head.

Kravitz!

Taako couldn’t speak in this form. Couldn’t say a word as he struggled with Magnus’ spirit. Fought against the pull of the afterlife, not on him, but on his friend.

A spiritual hand reached for them both, not knowing what Taako saw.

He had to try.

He hurled Magnus at the grasping hands and reached out for Kravitz. Who was fighting the inky water. Not water. Whatever it was, some of it was growing hands and trying to pull him back under.

Taako’s fight was against similar resistance. He was still living and his soul didn’t belong in the realm of the dead. Not yet. If he could just reach a little further…

His spectral fingers brushed Kravitz’s.

For just a moment, it seemed like he could do it. Save them both.

He rolled a five.

Merle’s spectral hands grabbed him and Magnus and yanked them away to the land of the living.

Forcing him away from his love.

Taako’s mouth opened in a silent scream, and all he had eyes for was the look in Kravitz’s as the grasping, tar-like hands pulled him back under the surface. Terror and sorrow and loss and an apology, all rolled into one.

He knew that look because that was exactly what he was feeling too.

He gasped for air. Tears stung his eyes. The spell he’d cast was broken, and he didn’t have the spell slots left to try again.

Merle looked victorious. He had no idea what he’d just done.

And worse, this was Boss Fight territory. Taako had to survive to even try to reach Kravitz again. Which meant pulling out as many stops as he could to win.

Against the body of his best friend.

While the soul belonging there was in a mannequin.

He’d probably been in worse situations, but for the life of him, he couldn’t recall a single one.

It was rough going.

Cam sacrificed himself for Merle. He failed to dodge a Death Bolt, and Magnus lost an arm. And somewhere in there, his Umbrastaff vored a lich.

To be honest, he wasn’t awake for that part. He was fuzzy on the details.

He was fuzzy on all of the details, to be honest. His head was whirling. He couldn’t focus on anything, any more. But the bell was secure, and that was good. Wonderland kind of… dissolved, and that was good to.

And now they were making nice with a Red Robe, which should have terrified him, but this one was on their side for however long  _ that _ was going to last and…

_ The man I love is trapped in a living tar pit and I can’t help him. _

Deep breath. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

Focus.

Five things he can see. Mannequin Magnus, changing into all of his previous body’s gear. Merle, clinging a little tightly to his Extreme Teen Bible. Antonia, blinded and grey, talking to him. He responds on automatic. The Red Robe, nervously hovering out of everyone’s way. People all around, picking themselves up out of the ashes.

_ Flashbacks to Phandalin. His baby could have been in the middle of that. _

Focus. Four things he can hear.

The soft sussurus of ash turning into smoke and then turning into nothing. Merle talking to the aged Sterling. The wind in the leaves and a distant roar of some beast. Somewhere, a nightingale sang.

_ This is the next to last one. What do we do when we’re out of a job? Can we even survive getting the last one? _

Focus. Three things he can feel.

White-knuckled grip on the Umbrastaff. The pounding of his heart. Some… random piece of forest debris had found its way into his boot. He fished it out.

Almost there. He could do this.

Two things he could smell. Ash-smoke and Merle’s old-man smell. Ateu de Sweaty Dwarf. Gross.

One thing he could taste. Taako took a swig from his waterskin. Key Lime Gogurt.

The Red Robe wanted Taako’s stone of Farspeech… but his baby was on the other end.

“Sirs? Sirs, are you there, you’ve been out of—sirs? You’ve, you’ve been offline for a while, are you there?”

His baby was scared. Worried. Probably dreading the fact that his Papa might be dead.

Taako raised the stone to his mouth. “Baby? Things are still… dodgy out here. I’m gonna try and come back to you, but… no matter what… Papa loves you.”

Magnus had a similar message for Angus to pass on to Julia and Lulu.

Merle, of course, was his usual crusty self. “Eh, I didn’t wanna talk to the kid anyway.”

Taako pretended like he didn’t care. He was always ready to run, anyway. It had been the background radiation of his entire life. He didn’t like running without his baby close and safe but… on the other hand… he had an entire base of the best that Faerun had to offer to keep him safe. And the world’s most competent woman who was an ace with the throwing hammer.

They had to hurry.

A storm was coming.

It wasn’t a normal storm. Taako could comprehend that much. The clouds weren’t clouds, and looked more like black opal than anything else. And… the colour seemed to be fading out of the world.

The next day wasn’t any better. The storm blotted the entire sky, and somehow the sun still shone beyond it. Through it? Between it? Taako couldn’t tell. Their journey took them through their first campsite on that ill-fated courier mission to Phandalin, and to a cave remarkably close to Wave Echo Cave. Where something eldritch had been going on.

This Red Robe was growing something in a tank. Never a good sign. And they’d been searching for something if their wall of madness was any indicator. Food stores were things that were meant to last. Iron rations. Hardtack. Lembas. Jerky. Preserves.

_ I have to survive to hug my baby again, _ he thought. He kept himself on guard, watching as the lich entered the tank. Barely paying any attention to Merle as he unpacked the Red Robe’s stuff.

Fortunately Merle kept a running commentary on what he was unpacking. “Adventurer’s kit. Toiletries. Leather belt. Shirt. Undies…” And then he laughed.

He was holding a pair of pants. Sturdy. Denim. Blue.

And the pudgy body of Barry Bluejeans emerged, gasping, from the tank. Dazed and confused for certain. And evidently as surprised about this turn of events as Taako was.


	32. Chapter 32

Angus helped Mrs Burnsides hold Lulu still as the globe finally returned. He felt his heart sink as two figures stepped out. Mr Highchurch was obvious. Papa was wearing his unique hat. The third was wearing Mr Burnsides’ armour… but wasn’t Mr Burnsides.

Angus gripped Lulu’s hand all the tighter. Something was wrong.

The mannequin wearing Magnus’ clothes was carrying the bell. Taako said something to Carey and she collapsed on the spot, curling into a ball of grief.

_ No, no no nonononono… _ It wasn’t fair! It really wasn’t fair! Mr Burnsides was a good and kind man who had no business being dead before his little girl grew up. He felt like calling Kravitz on his Stone of Farspeech and yelling at him. But now was not the time.

Lulu said, “Where’s Daddy?”

Mrs Burnsides said, “Daddy got held back, I’m sure.”

Papa made it up to them and knelt to hug Angus. Whispered in his ear in their secret language,  _ “Liars surround us. Watch the destruction ball. Meet us in the leader’s den. Iron-father incapacitated. Explain at length later. Not safe.” _

It wasn’t information that Angus could convey to his friend or her mom in public. He could say, “It’s going to be okay.”

Mrs Burnsides knew them both long enough to know that something was up. “I forgot my best hammer,” she said. “Lulu? It’s high time you did your dagger practice.”

“I have to watch this Relic get toasted,” Angus said truthfully. And then lied. “I’m fascinated by the process.”

Papa gave him a kiss on the forehead by way of a temporary farewell.

Things were breaking real bad, right now.

Julia understood. Lulu was beginning to understand. Something was happening. Something was up. Something was about to go wrong, big time.

And it had something to do with the way that mannequin walked  _ exactly _ like Mr Burnsides did.

Angus checked his lanyard and the attached wand was around his neck, and scurried over to the Director’s offices, and into the Elimination chamber. Where he put a covert chalk mark on the waiting containment orb. Having seen the gauntlet go through this process, he suspected some form of mummery. It would be easy to provide a lightshow to covertly transport the Grand Relics somewhere else for some nefarious purpose.

The motive was what eluded Angus. It wasn’t vainglory, since the Bureau operated in strictly enforceable secrecy. If it was for power, then the Director wielded it with a velvet glove.

Maybe she actually wanted to save the world, but from something bigger than the Grand Relics. Which was wrapped up in the vision of the oncoming storm and the seven birds.

He pocketed the chalk and prepared to fade into the background. It was amazing how much one could see and hear if one was a quiet and well-behaved child. People treated you like furniture that breathed.

The Director was relatively alone. Which meant that Davenport was trailing after her like a duckling, and the mannequin in Magnus’ armour followed her with the bell.

Angus caught the edges of its thrall.  _ I can make the dead come to life again. Sound me, and I can make death ignore you. Just touch me… I can make certain dreams come true… _ He threw a twenty on his will save, thank the gods.

“Angus… What are you doing here?”

“I want to see this one go, ma’am,” he said. “I’m fascinated by the process, and there’s not many chances to see it again.”

Madam Director didn’t show much in the way of emotion and it took something of an expert to read her. Fortunately Angus was such an expert, and saw the flicker of  _ Oh shit… _ wash across her usually severe expression. It was there and gone in barely a moment. “Well, I’m never one to turn down an opportunity for education, of course you can watch.”

Angus covertly cast Detect Magic and ran an Arcana Check at the same time. The beams of heat and light were beams of heat and light, but they shone on an orb that was no longer the orb that went in. A translocation spell. And a quick one at that, like the Wand of Switcheroo. No time to even notice the flicker that would have betrayed its activation. But the mark he put on the orb was gone.

So when Angus McDonald said, “Thank you, ma’am, I’ve learned a lot,” it was no lie.

Papa was right.

Something very wrong was happening on the moon.

At the earliest convenience, he slipped away from the scene. Nobody noticed a quiet child when they slunk away, either. He made his way to the Director’s office, where Papa was in trouble and an alarm was activating. He cast Silence on the alarm and watched as Papa realised he was in the thrall of an illusion and shook Mr Highchurch out of the spell.

Taako saw the spell Angus had cast, saw the drawn wand in Angus’ hands, and grinned. “That’s my beautiful magic boy.”

“What’s going on, sir?”

Papa attempted to explain, and with Angus helping, they figured out that the Grand Relics were not being destroyed, and the Director was planning to use them somehow. And there were other things. Missing patches of memory that couldn’t be easily explained because the very thought skittered away from their brains.

But they found the answer in the Director’s private quarters. In another tank. Full of dark ichor and a being they could not comprehend until they drank it.

It didn’t have much effect on Angus. He could comprehend that this tank held a baby voidfish. And the things that he had been unable to understand were made clear.

Papa… Papa looked shaken. Barry was okay, once Merle got rid of the holy symbol repelling… liches? Barry was a lich? But… he seemed so kind…

He was arguing with Madam Director about how recalling a hundred years or more would kill Papa and Mr Burnsides and Mr Highchurch if they weren’t given at least some basis of understanding.

And then Davenport said a complete sentence. “Lucretia… what did you  _ do?” _

Papa was crying. Big, fat tears of loss. And hugging his Umbrastaff. He whispered, “Loop… Omygods... Loop…”

“We… we were explorers,” Madam Director began.


	33. Chapter 33

Angus’ wand was broken. The Umbrastaff was near his hand. He’d seen it reject others in the past, stinging or singeing them, but he needed a defense and this was the nearest weapon. “Papa? Is this… is it okay for me to use this?”

“Go for it, little man!”

He aimed it like a blunderbuss. Focussed on casting Thunderwave.

And the fucking  _ sun _ came out of the Umbrastaff.

_ “Nice!” _ cheered Papa.

Angus was almost crying from shock. “Papa… sir. That wasn’t me. I didn’t cast that spell. I’m not nearly powerful enough to do that.”

Realisation dawned on Papa’s face. Something shocking and awe-inspiring. Something that was somehow wonderful. “I know,” he said.

“No you don’t— you don’t understand, I’m— that wasn’t me that just cast that spell!” Angus, not wanting any more of the Umbrastaff, threw it back to Papa.

“I know,” he said, catching it neatly, and snapping it over his knee.

_ Boom _ is too trite a word for the explosive conflagration that emanated from the ruin of the Umbrastaff. Fire roared all around them without singing a hair on any allies’ bodies.

Rising from the fires like a vengeful phoenix was a figure in a red robe. One that Papa recognised and whispered, “Sis…” with gratitude. His sister. Who happened to be a lich just like Barry Bluejeans.

She was lightning in a person-shaped bottle. Phantasmal and resplendent.

She descended to floor level and spoke for the first time in almost fourteen years. Words of love to the only family she had known since youth. “YOU’RE DATING THE  _ GRIM REAPER?” _

Papa could only laugh, liquid pride leaking out of his eyes.

“And when the  _ fuck _ did you get a  _ kid?” _

“Some loser threw him in the garbage. Their loss, my gain,” Papa quipped. “This one’s mine. Go steal your own.”

“Pfft. Too much work.” The spectre appeared to notice Angus. “Hey, there little man. Your family just got ninety percent cooler.”

“Impossible, ma’am. You can’t go over one hundred percent.”

“Sass,” she said. “You got a keeper.”

Papa said, “You’re back. Well, I knew. You could probably tell, but I knew the whole time. I just didn’t want to break your cool staff ‘cause I knew you’d be mad.”

She grinned at the obvious lie. “Yeah, I knew you’d figure it out eventually.”

“Oh, no, I knew, I mean I knew. For sure I knew.”

“Like from the very beginning? You think?” asked Mr Highchurch.

“Oh, yeah,” said Papa.

Mr Highchurch rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah.”

“Right away,” Papa insisted.

“You always had that little glint in your eye,” he added with evident sarcasm.

“Yeah.” Papa refused to give in.

Papa’s sister was the one to turn the knife, “Well, why didn’t you let me out sooner, dingus?”

The reply was instant, “Well, I didn’t remember you existed, goofus.”

There should have been hugs. There should have been a joyful re-union, but they had the Hunger to fight and a winning battle plan to concoct. Starting with how to eliminate the influence of the voidfish, so everyone in Faerun could see what was harming them. Then, how to break the isolation between the planar systems that the Hunger was causing.

“I have a cunning plan,” said… Aunty? It seemed wrong. They’d just met.

Barry joined her in looking over the edge. He made an appreciative noise.

“Barry, Taako, I think I know how we can get some reinforcements, and turn this whole thing around. Do you trust me?”

“Absolutely,” and Papa said it without hesitation.

“Merle, Magnus, keep going after Fisher. Barry, Taako, you’re with me.” And she floated off the edge of the moon and began a gradual descent.

“You heard the lady,” said Mr Bluejeans as he hurled himself after her, casting Featherfall at the last instant.

Papa knelt and kissed him on the forehead. “Stay as safe as you can, and fight like fuck. We’re doing everything we can, baby.”

“Love you Papa,” Angus blurted.

“Don’t say that like it’s the last time,” he mock-scolded. “Love you too.” And then he was off the edge and featherfalling towards the ruins of Phandalin.

Angus grabbed a stick of hazel wood from the Bureau gardens, since his wand and the Umbrastaff were broken. Papa’s first lesson in survival and magic had been that a wizard didn’t need a fancy wand to channel their magic. It was just a tool. You could use any old hazel twig if you had to… and Angus  _ had _ to.

The fate of the world was at stake.


	34. Chapter 34

“There’s my baby!”

“Papa!”

Adopted father and child collided in a hug. Kravitz watched them with a little jealousy. The world was saved, and now there was a huge mess to clean up. The Hunger had laid waste to so much, and there were so many lost souls to collect and guide back to his Queen.

And a little boy he wanted desperately to hug. And a man he wanted desperately to kiss…

And two liches to sort out. One of which was his boyfriend’s sister.

_ My Queen… I find myself in a pickle… _

His Queen answered after a moment’s pause.  _ These ones saved the world, and are not the danger they would normally be. We can come to an arrangement. _

The rest of her children - the other Reapers - were swarming the world now. Rounding up the released prisoners from the Eternal Stockade. Guiding lost souls to the Astral Plane.

There were no urgent cases that needed his attention  _ right now _ but if he wanted to, he could use that as an excuse.

“Well, don’t just hang around over there, handsome, come meet the family,” Taako breezed.

Kravitz wanted to say,  _ I can’t. I have work. _ Or,  _ The Raven Queen needs me. _ Or any of a thousand things that could have been true.

But there was a beautiful Elf who loved him and didn’t care about the cold, clamminess of his skin or his work in the afterlife or any of a million things. Just like he didn’t care about what the liches of Wonderland had done to him, or that he was connected however ephemerally to the worst mass murder in Faerun’s history. Or any of the myriad of things that had discouraged others from staying with him in his expansion pack past.

He’d seen it all, and he still loved that amazing magical Elf.

Kravitz awkwardly approached. And had to field Angus as he leaned over to be held.

“Lup, this is my bone daddy. Krav, you already met my sister. She’s a real lich.”

“Don’t make me fireball your ass, babe,” said Lup, but she was laughing.

“And then there’s the son-of-a-lich, my brother-in-law.”

“Damnit, Taako…”

“Barold J. Bluejeans.”

“It… used to be Sildar Hallwinter, like… too long ago.” Barry blushed. “I’ve been Barry Bluejeans to the whole crew for longer than I could live, so... “ he shrugged.

He didn’t know how to talk to these people, so he defaulted to business. “You’re one of the highest bounties on the books,” he told Barry. “But given the circumstances, the Raven Queen is willing to allow you two to negotiate.”

“I’ve already thought about that,” said Barry. “We could… both become Reapers. I’m sure the Raven Queen needs some muscle to act on her behalf. And… let’s face it, we can kick ass.”

“With a buttload of style,” added Lup.

He could not talk for his Queen on this. “I’ll have to take you to her so you can make this offer yourselves. It would help significantly if there isn’t a fight from you about this.”

“If my sister goes, I go,” said Taako. “I’m not losing Lup in a hurry.”

“Actually, I think Istus has Plans for you, love. This… this one might go to the board.”

Lup’s lighting-filled silhouette gave the impression of a sneer and a wince. “Fate decided by committee. Ugh. That’s gonna suck.” And then she shrugged and said, “But that’s tomorrow. We fuckin’ party today!”

“YEAH!” Taako agreed. “Let’s find a kitchen to invade, I got me some sibling cooking to catch up on.”

The rest of the Starblaster crew cheered. Well, most of them. One distanced herself from the rest of her crew.

Lucretia.

Kravitz had heard the story and song. Lived it in seconds. Lived it with them. He knew what they knew, now. Including everything Lucretia had done. She had tried simply erasing the Relics from living memory, but they were too strong and too powerful. She tried gathering them up, with very limited success.

She betrayed her friends and family so that they would have an easier time of it. She shouldered a burden she didn’t need to bear alone.

And she tore Taako’s heart out so painlessly that he didn’t know it was gone for twelve years.

Kravitz could see the change in him. The Taako he was used to had held himself aloof from all but a select few. Cagey and reserved and prone to sharing his worst secrets just to see if it drove anyone away. And also the man who loved so thoroughly that it was an experience. If love were food, Taako was the starving man at a banquet.

And now…

Now he was  _ complete. _ There was no other word for it. The half of himself that he had lost had been restored. There was no more guarded paranoia, checking constantly to see if those who were with him were still allies. There was no more rapid back-pedalling when he feared he crossed a line. He walked with all the confidence of a man who knew without a doubt that he had a minimum of one person who believed in him.

Kravitz was crazy about Taako  _ before _ this restoration. Now…

Taako was just as resplendent as his sister.

And Lucretia was ashamed of all she had done to him. Done to them. Necessary evils piled on the sunk cost fallacy and stirred gently with a need to  _ get it over. _ Kravitz had seen thousands of lives end because of similar thought trains.

“You’re lucky to survive this one,” said Kravitz.

“I’ll be lucky if he forgives me,” she said. ‘If’. Not ‘when’. She had had a century to get to know Taako and his… possessiveness… when it came to family. Kravitz had only seen a few wonderful months of Taako’s… peculiarities. It was more than likely that he’d be salty about this particular stunt for the rest of his long, long life. “If you get the chance to talk to him about… this…” a vague gesture included the Starblaster, herself, and the wreckage of the Hunger War. “Ask him to consider what his life might have been like if he thought she’d left him.”

Kravitz had experienced the story and song. He  _ knew. _ Taako with the memory of the missing Lup would have searched tirelessly for her. He would have fretted himself into nothing. He would be devastated.

Because he would  _ believe _ that the one person in the whole world that he had counted on his entire life had just… left.

Kravitz said, “Those were the only two options you had?” And then turned away from her to rejoin his love. His new little family.

Lup and Taako were already arguing about which dishes to prepare.

“Fuck it,” Taako announced. “We can make all of ‘em. Gods know there’s enough hungry people around to help us eat it.”

“Can I help?” Angus asked.

“Of course,” Lup breezed. “Too much Mage Hand makes me dizzy in this form. Gonna need someone to steal half of the garlic.”

“And I’ll need someone else to steal half the hot sauce for me,” cooed Taako. “You in, bone man?”

_ Now and forever, _ he thought. “Sure,” he said. “I’d love to be part of the spectacle.”

 

END!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and thank you for staying with me through this. I actually have a fic finished, so tomorrow will launch a sweet new thing with soulmate angst. Stay tuned.
> 
> Plot kittens created whilst writing this fic: 3  
> Novels finished whilst writing this fic: 1  
> Fandom forged because of this fic: Priceless
> 
> For any other information on how to support this author and their works, go see my hub site, internutter.org - It has all the pies I have fingers in. So to speak.


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